Moments Passed
by bravevulnerability
Summary: 'It's been five years and she's undoing him in five minutes.' AU.
1. Chapter 1

_"Maybe it's all down to the thought of her,_  
 _Maybe it's all down to the loss we learned,  
Knew for a long time for all it's worth...  
_ _I loved you.  
_ _Does that mean nothing to you now?  
_ _I loved you.  
_ _Get me back on homely ground"_

-Moments Passed, Dermot Kennedy

* * *

Castle runs a hand through his hair, dispelling the flakes of snow clinging to the strands as he enters the church. The warmth of the building embraces him, attempts to soothe the chill from his bones, but winter clings to the skin beneath his coat. He still doesn't know if he's making the right decision or his greatest mistake yet, but it's too late now. He's weaving through the crowd of guests filing into the church and chattering in the lobby, following the directions that a woman named Lanie gave him.

"Straight down the right corridor, there'll be a door at the end of the hall. Kate should be finished getting ready in there by now," she informed him, nodding towards his destination with a skeptical look on her face and an eyebrow raised high. "You sure you're in the right place, Mr. Castle? Beckett never mentioned inviting a best-selling author."

"It's kind of a surprise," he explained in return, throwing Lanie his most charming smile to hide his nerves. It worked long enough for him to take her instructed path before anyone else could recognize him.

But now, Rick hesitates outside the elegant doorway, his fingers balanced atop the golden curve of a handle and his heart in his throat.

It's been so long since he's seen her and he longs to see her again, but what if she has no desire to see him? What if the sight of him brings back nothing but the pain of that last day spent with her?

But he made a promise and he's always been a man of his word. If Kate asks him to leave, he will, but at least he would leave knowing he honored her father's wishes.

Rick curls his fingers around the handle, slowly eases the door open.

He slips inside the room and almost chokes at the sight of her.

Stunning. So stunning, like a goddess illuminating the room. He's left speechless, a specter in awe of witnessing Kate Beckett assess herself in front of the full-length mirror. The sweep of her gaze down her body is critical, the slender lengths of her fingers fidget with the skirt of her dress, tangling in the tendrils of hair framing her face - she looks restless, riddled with unease, but gorgeous.

She's even more gorgeous than he remembered.

The last thought, its accompanying adjective, must have escaped past his lips, because Kate startles. Her eyes rise to meet his in the mirror, widening the second they land on him.

"Rick?"

"Hey," he responds, stupidly, adding a ridiculous little wave of his hand.

"What're you…" Her voice trails, her eyes holding onto his in the glass. Her reflection allows him to see the moment clarity spreads soft and golden through her gaze. "How did you find out I was getting married?"

Rick shrugs, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket. "Your Aunt Theresa messaged me on Facebook."

A surprised laugh flutters from her lips, her fingers rising to catch it. But it doesn't stop the smile, real and glimmering with a glimpse of teeth. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"Why?" Rick challenges, easing the door shut behind him, silencing the excited murmurs of the crowd down the hallway and congregating in the main chapel.

"You're not supposed to see the bride before she walks down the aisle," she tosses back, halfheartedly returning to her examination in the mirror, her hands ceaseless as they smooth over the tulle of her dress.

"That's a rule for the groom," he informs her, his tongue heavy around the correction, his teeth biting back the urge to tell her the truth, to lay it all out at her feet.

He should be the one marrying her today.

It was always supposed to be him.

"I'm just the guy walking you down the aisle."

Kate's hands slow to a stop over her hipbones. She finally turns away from the mirror, allows him a perfect view of her in her wedding dress.

"Kate," he whispers, willing his throat not to tighten around the simple syllable of her name. "You're… breathtaking."

Her lips part, an unsteady little exhale slipping past, but she shakes her head, stepping away from the middle of her dressing room, towards him instead. "Walking me down the aisle… you say that like it's nothing."

"It's just-"

"You kept your promise," she murmurs, lowering her eyes, swallowing hard. "It would mean a lot to him, to both of them."

His heart clenches at the mention of her parents, their absence.

He met the Becketts after years of travelling around the country with his mother, landing in New York City when he was eleven years old, moving into the same apartment building as the two lawyers and their clever nine-year-old daughter, Katie.

She hated him in the beginning, ignoring him every time Martha requested Johanna watch him for the evening while his mother headed off to rehearsals. He can still remember the arguments he would hear a young Katherine Beckett having with her mother about how it was an 'unlawful play date', can still recall how she sat at the dining table with him, unwillingly scribbling in coloring books and learning to share her Legos so they could build castles together. How eventually she grew to accept his presence, started to welcome it after a few weeks.

By the end of that first summer, he was her best friend and she was his. He held the title throughout the years of grade school, despite the teasing they both received for it and the difficulties their two-year age gap would sometimes provide. He always saw her after school, walked home with her, and usually did his homework in the Becketts' living room with Kate at his side and one of her parents in the kitchen making dinner.

College was never a priority for him, but Kate encouraged the idea, coaxing him with the advantage it could serve to his writing. Along with the daydream of spending another few years with her if he was able to make it into the school of her choice.

As if he was going to say no to the idea of a co-ed Beckett.

At eighteen, he was accepted into NYU and Kate wasn't far behind, graduating a year early, joining him in classes and making their parents proud.

He misses those days.

Her mother was killed after that first year and her life fell apart, spiraling off course. He never blamed her for drowning in the darkness, still can't imagine ever resenting her for it, but with her mother's death went their friendship.

"I need to do this alone," she told him on the steps of the church after her mother's funeral, dressed in black with tears glittering in eyes that no longer lit up for him. They turned to lifeless, dark brown trenches of her grief on display.

"Do what alone?" he demanded, moving in to touch her, but Kate took an abrupt step back.

"Deal with it," she murmured, squaring her jaw, the line of bone sharp enough to cut.

"But Kate, I'm… you're my best friend. This - we can get through it together, like always."

He thinks he inadvertently caused the cracks in her heart to splinter deeper that bitter January day, remembers the horror that welled up in his chest when the tears in her eyes started to fall.

"Kate," he tried again, his own heart beginning to shrivel up in his chest.

"I can't be your best friend," she grinded out, trying so hard to wear a mask of indifference, to be strong. "I can't - can't be anything. Not until I - I have to find her killer. It's all that matters. All I have room for."

"But I - I love you," he managed, the words coming out all strangled and wrong, so very wrong.

She choked on a sob that tore him to pieces.

"I'm sorry, Rick. I'm so sorry." And then she stepped up to him, kissed the corner of his mouth and whispered one last apology into his skin before retreating, leaving him to freeze.

That was the last conversation he ever had with his former best friend. Until he learned of her engagement to a prestigious, square-jawed FBI agent and, through the burn of acid spilling inside his chest, he remembered the promise he made to Jim Beckett.

"Make me a promise, son," Jim mumbled, tracking him down only a handful of months after Johanna Beckett's funeral, meeting with him in Kate's favorite diner. He already knew then that whatever promise Jim Beckett would ask him to make, he would swear to. Because this was a man who was the father he never had, always wanted, and he owed it to him. Despite the liquor he could smell laced through the words. "I know my daughter hurt you, that she's too wounded, too… broken right now to see it, but she needs you. I - I can't be there for her, not anymore. I've failed her and just… I was thinking, she's going to get married one day-"

Castle pursed his lips, protests already bubbling in his chest. "Jim-"

"I'm hoping it'll be to you," Jim sighed, so wistful and wasted, already fading away in front of Rick's eyes. "But if for some reason it isn't, be the one to give her away for me."

"No," Castle croaked, clearing his throat, but it was no good. The lump lodged within his trachea was a permanent one. "You'll be there for that. She won't - she won't need me."

Jim scoffed, withdrawing a few bills from his wallet with trembling hands and placing them beneath his empty coffee cup on the table. "Rick, you're the only family she has left."

The Becketts had a horrible habit of leaving him with gut-wrenching last words. Jim Beckett was found dead in the apartment Rick grew up in only a few weeks later, the alcohol bleeding through every pore of his body.

"You knew about it?" Castle asks, surprised by the news. He expected confusion and questions, was prepared to explain the last conversation he had with her father five years ago.

"He told me," she confirms with a small nod. "Near the end. I just… I never thought you'd show."

"I keep my promises," Rick shrugs, attempting to avert his gaze, to look at anything but her.

"You're a good man," Kate sighs, reaching forward, dusting her fingers along the collar of his dress shirt. The innocent touch nearly causes him to jerk. "I'm sorry, for what I did to you."

Castle immediately shakes his head in denial of her apology. "Johanna had just… I understood, Kate."

"That doesn't excuse it," she argues, the slender bones of her fingers clenching in the fabric, wrinkling it. "It's been five years and I should have - you deserved better. My best friend deserved better."

"I still hold such a privileged title?" he inquires, wiggling his eyebrows to make her laugh, the sound just as beautiful as he remembered, even when it's quiet and unsure. He breathes out the declaration before he can think better of it. "I missed you, Kate."

Her eyes are growing misty again. It's an emotional day, he reasons, her wedding and all. But the tears building in her gaze don't look as if they've been caused by the overwhelming joy or excitement most brides carry. Kate's eyes are filling with... something that looks like regret.

And then her arms are sliding around his neck, her scent embracing him with the cove of her body. His lungs fall useless, his limbs paralyzed.

Never would he have fathomed having Kate Beckett in his arms again.

Too much, it's just too much-

Where does he even put his hands?

"I missed you too," she whispers, the soft skin of her cheek brushing his. "I missed you so much, Rick. Every time I would see your books or stand in line at one of your signings-"

"You came to my signings?" he echoes, familiar remorse drenching his insides and his hands automatically reaching for her waist. "No, no, I would have recognized you the second you-"

"I always chickened out, stepped out of the line before I could reach you," she confesses on a sigh, the tips of her fingers finding the base of his skull, combing through the fine hairs there. She used to do the same thing when they were younger, always toying with his hair. Driving him crazy with it. "I'm proud of you though, proud of everything you've accomplished."

"Kate-"

"I kept track of the dedications."

Oh no.

"Pretty pathetic, huh?" he tries to joke, but Kate pulls back from him with reproach in her gaze.

"No," she answers. "They were… everything. Your books have been a lifeline for me, Rick. Ever since my mom - your books helped me keep my head above water."

"I could have helped," he mumbles, sounding like a child, jealous of his own novels. But they were allowed time with her when he wasn't, they were granted her acceptance while he was left to build a life without her. His best friend and the girl he fell in love with over the span of ten years, leaving him with a hollow, gaping space in his chest.

But apparently, she's fallen in love with someone else.

Castle reaches back, curls careful fingers around her wrists and draws her arms from around his neck, detaching her. How the hell is he supposed to give her away to another man after _that_?

"Castle-"

He swallows at the use of his acquired surname, can still remember narrowing it down with her help, how she started calling him _Castle_ on random days just to make him grin.

"You're getting married in twenty minutes," he states, brushing his thumbs along the bones of her metacarpals despite himself, relishing the heat of her skin beneath his hands. "And maybe - I don't know if walking you down the aisle is necessarily the best idea anymore, Kate. I should just… I should go-"

"No, wait," she protests, her hands twisting, tangling with his. His eyes dart to her face, surprised by the simmer of longing rippling through her features. He's seen it before, when he actually believed there was hope for them, when he was so in love with his best friend that he couldn't fathom it any other way. When they were young and free and blissfully unaware of what the future held. Of dark alleys and bloodstains, of death and deconstruction and broken hearts. "I thought - I want you here, Rick."

"I can't be here," he scrapes out, clearing his throat and gracelessly withdrawing his hands from the delicate embrace of her fingers. "Can't be your best friend," he repeats those last words from her, but the anguish that bleeds in her eyes is enough to make him regret it. This is bad, going all wrong so fast, too fast, and he needs to go. "It's been five years and I - I don't even know why I came here, why I thought I could do this when I'm still so…"

The expression of heartache softens, a strange mixture of knowledge and curiosity, even an odd flicker of hope, flaring to life in her gaze.

"Still so what?"

Fuck, it's been five years and she's undoing him in five minutes.

Castle drifts forward, presses a kiss that exudes far too much sorrow to her forehead. One last goodbye. He needs to tell her goodbye.

"In love with you," he murmurs, unable to stop the plea, the contradiction, from spilling into his voice. He already hates himself for doing this to her, for ruining her wedding day with his own selfish wants. For still wanting her.

He's spent the last week preparing for this day, insisting to himself that his feelings for her were finally put to rest, that they were never anything but silly childhood nonsense to begin with. But just the sight of her after so long without her has spilled gasoline all over his heart, set it aflame for the first time in years. And he can't do it, can't watch her marry someone else. Can't be a part of it.

"So don't say yes," he adds, the forbidden words scraping past his throat, eliciting a hitch in hers. "Not if you don't love him, Kate. Don't say yes if he doesn't love you like I could."


	2. Chapter 2

He walks out on her. The sear of his lips is still burning the skin of her forehead as he disappears, out of the room and presumably out of the church.

He loved her. He's _in love_ with her. He's said it before, but she left him when he did. Left his words bleeding out with his heart on the stone steps of the church that hosted her mother's funeral.

She almost forgot they existed, that they were ever true; she certainly didn't expect them to last.

Part of her curses her dad for this, for forcing Rick to honor a sadistic commitment, for shaking up the courage she mustered to walk down that damn aisle on her own and into Will's waiting arms. But it doesn't rival how much she hates herself in that moment, standing alone in the middle of a private room in a dress that is too extravagant, far from what she once imagined her wedding day looking like.

It's been over five years since she last saw Rick Rodgers, since she is certain she broke what was left of both their hearts on the day of her mom's funeral. She's regretted every day that she hasn't called him since.

She thought that Will would fill the void. That someone new, someone who doesn't remind her of the past, was what she needed, but seeing Rick again is threatening to prove all of her hopes wrong. Seeing him again reminds her why Will could never manage to take the place of her 'childhood sweetheart' who never even learned the truth.

She loved him back. Always has.

"Dammit," she growls, bundling the stupid skirt of the dress with too many sparkles in her fist and rushing for the door, poking her head out before exiting, just in case-

"Katherine Beckett," Lanie hisses, marching down the hall to stop her from making her escape. "I know that look, girl. You cannot go playing runaway bride on me right now."

"No, Lanie, you don't understand," Kate pleads, her eyes searching over her maid of honor's shoulder, desperate for a glimpse of him. "Rick-"

"Is waiting for you by the main doors, sweetie," Lanie placates her with a furrowed brow, the wheels of the M.E's mind already turning. Until sudden understanding bursts through her narrowed gaze. "Oh no. You have a history with that boy, don't you? And you didn't _tell me?_ "

"It's a long story-"

"Ancient, modern, or sexual?"

"Lanie," Kate huffs, but stiffens at the sound of music, horror churning in her gut as the organ begins to play, tuning up for the wedding march. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Oh, honey, I already _know_ you can't do this. You cannot marry Will with the way you look right now," Lanie sighs softly, squeezing Kate's arm. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know." She squeezes her eyes shut. "I don't-"

"Kate, what's wrong?" Her heart riots in her chest as Castle comes back into view, striding down the short hallway with concern brimming in his dull blue eyes. They cut to Lanie, before flicking back to her, softening in apology. "I'm sorry about earlier, if I upset you at all, but just - forget what I said. It's time to get out there."

"You're still here," she breathes, her chest too tight for much more.

Her two closest friends share a look, as if they're afraid she's going to collapse right there.

"Yeah, I just… needed a moment, but I keep my promises," he says again, offering up his arm to her - stiff, mechanical, and all wrong. This is all wrong. She can't honestly get married to another man with Rick here, standing in front of her with a mask of resignation claiming his face.

He offers a polite quirk of his lips when he notices her staring, forcing his mouth to spread into a strained smile, doing his best to maintain that brave face of support, indifference. Trying, he's trying so hard for her.

Beckett slides her fingers into the crook of his elbow without thinking, earning a disapproving look from Lanie as the three of them begin to walk towards the main chapel.

"Kate-"

 _Stall_ , she mouths the word before Lanie can give her another lecture, quieting the unease in her maid of honor's gaze. Lanie nods without a moment of hesitation and Kate vows to remember to thank her for all of this. No matter how things turn out by the end of the ceremony.

"She's nice," Castle muses as Lanie struts on ahead of them, entering the chapel with determination.

"Rick." He doesn't look at her, but he acknowledges the call of his name with the tilt of his head towards her. That isn't what she wants though and Kate tugs them to a stop before they can reach the end of an aisle she cannot fathom walking down. Not anymore. "I wish my mom was here."

Castle drops his arm to find her hand, giving her trembling fingers a gentle squeeze.

"I know," he murmurs, brushing his thumb along the rise of her knuckle. His eyes are staring straight ahead, but she can see the remorse festering his gaze, seeping down to push at the corner of his mouth. "I can't even imagine-"

"But I think if my mom, or even my dad, were still alive, _I_ wouldn't be here right now."

Rick has steadfastly refused to look at her since he retreated from her dressing room a few minutes ago, but his eyes fall to her in confusion at the statement, the aching concern still in place. Kate uses the grip of his fingers to draw him away, back towards the corridor hidden away from the guests, away from the reminders of where they are, what she's about to do.

"It isn't an excuse," she begins, blinking against the tears crowding her eyes, burning in the corners and threatening to ruin an hour's worth of makeup. "But, Rick, I know that if my parents were here, they would have knocked some sense into me before I allowed my relationship with Will to go this far. If there had been a relationship with him to begin with."

"Why are you telling me this?" he whispers, his fingers untangling from hers. "It's - it's too late for this. You had five years to-"

"Rick-"

" _Kate_ ," he chokes out, clearing his throat. Trying to, failing. "You're just - this is just pre-wedding jitters, okay? You're only saying this because… because we have a history. I'm safe, familiar, but don't throw away your life with Will over something stupid I said-"

"I never would have let you go," she forces out, shaking her fingers free from his loose grasp and lifting both of her hands to his troubled face. It's the first time she's felt the warmth of his cheeks beneath her palms, the smooth shaven planes of skin and firm bones of his jaw. She yearns to know what it would be like to feel his smile blooming between her hands, to feel it beneath her lips. "I would give anything to go back to that day, to go back and _fix this_. I - I picked up the phone so many times, I wanted to call so many times. I wanted you-"

Part of her thinks it should feel wrong, tragic even, that the first time Richard Castle leans in to kiss her is while another man is waiting at the other end of church aisle for her. But when Rick's lips are just a breath away from brushing hers, his hands mimicking hers to cradle her cheeks and wiping away the trails of moisture on her skin - it feels too right to be anywhere near wrong.

"Daddy!"

Castle jerks, fingers slipping to flutter down the sides of her throat. His eyes fly to a redheaded child scampering towards them, her tiny hands covering her gasping mouth.

"Richard," the once familiar voice of Martha Rodgers scolds next, disapproval heavy in her vibrant blue eyes as she follows the child approaching them. "You _promised_."

"Promised?" Kate repeats, glancing between him, his mother, and the little girl staring up at her with blue eyes that are as bright and as brilliant as the man standing next to her. Wait- " _Daddy_?"

"Are you Kate?" the little girl whispers, inching closer with a shy smile.

"I'm - yes," Beckett stammers, swallowing with a great deal of difficulty, her throat painfully dry and her cheeks burning with embarrassment as her gaze flickers up to Martha.

"Hello, Katherine," his mother sighs, a tired but knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You look as breathtaking as ever, darling."

"Thank you," Kate manages, turning her head to dispel the linger of Castle's hands on her cheeks. But they don't go far, one falling to her waist while the other reaches for the little girl calling him 'Daddy'.

"Daddy, you promised you wouldn't crash the wedding," the girl huffs, sharing an exasperated look with Martha that would have Kate laughing if she wasn't so very confused.

"I did _not_ crash it," he argues, hefting the redhead up to perch on his hip, holding her against the broad wall of his chest. "I was just-"

"I crashed the wedding," Kate cuts in, saving him from sputtering excuses to the little girl on his arm. She turns her astonished eyes over to Beckett, utter shock and awe that only a child can innocently pull off flaring through her gaze.

"Why would you crash your wedding? It's so pretty," the girl - his daughter? - reasons.

"I believe now would be a good time for introductions," Castle interrupts, returning the favor and squeezing the hard bone of Kate's hip. "Alexis, this is my friend, Kate. Kate, this is my daughter, Alexis."

"Daddy said you were his _bestest_ friend when you were little," Alexis states, holding out her small hand to Kate and beaming back at her when Beckett gives it a gentle shake. Yeah, this has to be Rick's kid. The shine of her eyes, the curve of her pink lips, and the general charm this girl exudes – all practically inherited from the man carrying her.

"He was my bestest friend too," Kate chuckles, releasing Alexis's hand and attempting to step back, out of Castle's grip, but he doesn't seem to plan on letting her go.

"You two use past tenses and yet, your friendship seems alive and well to me," Martha muses, eyeing the two of them with a quirked brow that Kate remembers from their teenage years, when his mother would tease them about their relationship. Or lack thereof.

Kate would avert her eyes, Rick would blush, his mother would laugh at them both, snickering about it with Johanna later that evening while Jim shook his head and patted Rick's once scrawny shoulder.

"Mother, why don't you take Alexis and go back to your seats for now," Castle insists, pecking Alexis's cheek before placing her back on her feet.

Martha takes Alexis's hand, but doesn't appear the least bit convinced that they'll remain in their seats for much longer. "Will we still be witnessing a bride walk down the aisle?"

" _Mom_ ," he growls. Martha merely waves him off, starts back down the hallway with Alexis in tow.

"Whatever you decide, Kate, it was marvelous to see you again and I do hope we can catch up soon," Martha calls over her shoulder while Alexis twists around to spare one last glance to them.

"I hope so too," the girl chimes in with another toothy grin, skipping along at her grandmother's side with the light blue ruffles of her dress bouncing around her knees.

"I'm sorry," Rick sighs the second his mother and daughter – his _daughter._ Her former best friend has had a _child_ within the last five years – are out of sight. "Mother insisted on coming and Alexis-"

"Alexis." He stiffens and she pulls her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. "I had no idea… but she's lovely, Rick."

Relief exudes from the exhale of his breath, the bloom of his smile. "Yeah, she's the best. I thought there was a chance you knew about her."

"No, you did a good job of keeping her out of the tabloids," Kate murmurs, picking at the sleeve of her dress, her thumb gnawing at one of the silver snowflake patterns. "I just - you're a dad."

"I am," he confirms with that soft smile she can't help catching. She always knew he would make a wonderful father someday, but she used imagine he would be much older. And that the kid would be hers. Shit, why didn't he find her sooner? Why didn't _she_ find _him_? "A year after we… lost touch, I met a girl at a party, had a one night stand. She contacted me a couple of months later, informed me she was pregnant, that it was mine. I wasn't ready to be a dad, but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

The smile on her lips spreads a little wider, but wavers at the arrival of the next question in her head. "And her mom?"

"Actress in LA. I got full custody of Alexis after the divorce two years ago."

A father, a husband, and a recent divorcee. Wow.

She's pictured him as all but one of those.

They never would have divorced.

The organ music stops, restarts, the wedding march abandoned for a soft melody she recognizes from an elevator. Fuck, they're all waiting on her in there.

Kate runs a hand through her hair, feels the curls falling from their perfectly pinned positions to curtain around her cheeks.

Rick attempts to catch them, tuck them back into place. "Kate? Think you're ready to get out there?"

Her heartbeat picks up, pulsing painfully hard in her chest, and she glances up at him. His gaze is encouraging, hopeful, but oh, _oh_ , he's actually hoping she'll say no.

She was about to kiss him mere minutes ago. How could she ever say yes? How could she ever say 'I do'?

An army of words is ready to attack from her lips, but they trip over each other, tangle on her tongue. "I-"

" _Kate_."

The hushed call of her name is echoing down the hall before the words can rally again, before she can even try to utter another.

Will is charging towards the two of them. His cheeks are red with the telltale sign of embarrassment, agitation sits in the tense set of his shoulders, and she hates herself a little more for the genuine confusion swirling through his gaze.

His spine grows stiffer the closer he gets, the line of his jaw deadly as he notices Castle. A dark flash of indignation flares in his eyes, worsening as they drift to the hand Rick immediately drops from her waist. She has to remind herself to take a step back, towards the man she's supposed to be marrying today.

"Kate," he repeats, coming to a stop in front of her. "What are you doing? The guests are getting restless and I - I've been waiting for my bride for the last fifteen minutes."

Kate attempts to scrape a hand through her hair again, but her fingers snag in the veil. "Will, I need to talk-"

"Better question," Will interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Castle like one of the criminals he deals with on a regular basis. "What's going on here?"

"Kate was just nervous," Castle steps in, plastering on the smile she's seen in the newspapers, on the television, and despite the chaos she's causing this very second, she yearns for the genuine quality of his lopsided grin. "Cold feet. Every bride gets them."

"And who are you supposed to be?" Will questions, not the least bit placated by Rick's lie.

"Will, can you just-"

"Beckett's best friend," Castle informs the other man with a defiant lift of his chin, matching Will's towering stance and crossing his arms. "The one with the job of walking her down the aisle."

"Funny, Kate never mentioned this when we were planning the wedding."

"It was a surprise."

"And as far as I know," Will continues, as if Rick never spoke. "Kate's best friend is standing up there with the rest of the bridesmaids, attempting to calm the crowd."

"Childhood best friend," Castle corrects, a smug flicker illuminating his eyes. "Her dad asked me to walk her down the aisle before he passed."

"And you think that gives you a free pass to feel up my fiancée in the hallway?" Will snaps, but Kate is done playing witness to the competition going down in the middle of a church corridor.

"Enough," she growls, channeling the voice she normally reserves for suspects. "Will, we need to talk. In my dressing room. Now."

Her fiancé scowls at Rick but strides past him, fuming the rest of the way down the hall. Beckett closes her eyes for a brief moment, takes a deep breath as the door slams shut with a loud echo that she's certain everyone in the building can hear.

"Had he already seen you in your dress?"

Her eyes peel open at the question, allowing her the image of her former best friend, his shoulders hunched and his spine tense like that time he punched Mike Sanders for calling her a bitch in sixth grade. But his eyes are on the door at the end of the hall.

"No," she sighs, smoothing a thoughtless hand over her abdomen.

The gown was a gift, an exquisite prize from a prestigious fashion designer after she inadvertently connected the dots on a case that wasn't even hers. She has yet to make detective, but the move definitely placed her higher on the totem pole in Captain Montgomery's eyes.

But it wasn't the dress she dreamed of as she a little girl, and while beautiful, it's never felt quite right. Not like her mom's dress. She should have known that her hesitation to share the gown with Will, to let him see her in something she held so close to her heart, was a glaring red flag.

"He didn't even mention how beautiful you look," Castle mutters, resolve burning bright in his eyes. "Kate, he doesn't even… I know I don't know him or - or you anymore, but you can't-"

"Castle," she mumbles, reaching forward to grip the lapels of his suit jacket, holding his eyes when they find hers. She can't do this right now, can't fix it, but she can assure him of one thing, a truth she has always been too afraid to admit since meeting Rick Rodgers seventeen years ago. "I don't think anyone could ever love me like you did."


	3. Chapter 3

Kate disappears down the hall after her fiancé, the burn of her eyes still vivid on his mind, her words looping through his skull. He told her not to say yes, not if Will can't love her like he can, like he _does_ , so does this mean…

Rick shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. This is a mess, a mess _he_ caused, and he's desperate to escape this church, to be free of the holy place that makes his sins feel alive. Kate's never been a religious person to begin with and he assumes that the preference of venue must belong to the groom.

The Kate Beckett he knew would never have chosen to get married in a church. She would want the ceremony to be outside, in grass or on sand, a place similar to his backyard in the Hamptons. Castle drifts away on his daydream, strolling back up the hallway, away from the door to her dressing room where he can hear the beginnings of an argument starting between Kate and her almost husband. She requested he wait for her after she made that declaration that stole his breath and his words, and he will, without question. Just not in Will's line of sight.

Rick retrieves his phone from the inside pocket of his tux and texts his mother to call the car service. He adds that they won't be staying and he'll just meet them back at the loft after he speaks with Kate, after he learns the fate of this day for good.

* * *

"Are you in love with him?" Will demands, interrogating her like a suspect, but Kate refuses to be placed on the other side of the table. This is how it always goes when they fight. Will volleys between good cop and bad cop, treats their argument like an interrogation, as if he has already deemed her guilty.

"I don't know," she murmurs honestly, too tired to fight the battle, to prove her innocence. If she has any left. "I was."

"So what do you need? Closure? Because, Kate, that was five years ago and people change over time. You're not kids anymore."

"Then stop lecturing me," she grits out. "It has nothing to do with that, with him. Right now? This is about us."

Will scrubs a hand down the sharp, square angle of his jaw, as if he's exasperated enough as it is and can't bear another difficult conversation. "What about us? I thought we were great."

"We are," Kate nods, unthinkingly beginning to fiddle with the sparkling engagement ring on her finger. "We're great, Will. But we aren't…"

"Aren't _what_? We fit, Kate. We understand each other, the jobs, and I love you."

"I - I love you too." Oh, he totally caught her hesitation and all she wants is to disappear at the flash of hurt flaring through his eyes. "But, Will, you deserve more than great. You deserve someone who makes you feel extraordinary and I know that isn't me."

That genuine hurt in his eyes flickers brighter and Kate steps forward, eradicates the distance between them. She wraps her arms around her fiancé's neck, buries her face in his shoulder and bites back more tears as he returns her embrace. Accepting.

"I could be happy with great," he whispers into her hair. "I'm happy with you."

Kate shakes her head, drawing it up from his shoulder to meet his eyes.

"Only for so long. I know you got offered the job in Boston," she sighs the confession. She didn't mean to overhear him on the phone last month, to catch the snippet of his conversation with a colleague about the job offer he's been hoping for. She didn't mean to keep her knowledge of it a secret, but between the stress of her own work and the woes of wedding planning, she hasn't had the chance to bring it up.

Or the courage.

"How… I was going to tell you," he murmurs, an apology written in the lines of his mouth, but Beckett only offers him half a smile in return.

"But you already knew what I would have said."

Will nods, because he did, has always known she would never abandon the NYPD, the crusade for her mother. Their marriage would have been over before it even began.

"Does _he_ make you feel extraordinary?" Will mutters, cutting his eyes to the closed door they both know Rick waits beyond. Kate touches his cheek, uses the advantage of her shimmering silver heels to drift forward, press a final kiss to the corner of his mouth.

She knows her answer, but Will doesn't need to hear it. She's done enough damage as it is.

"I'm sorry."

"I am too," Will sighs. He takes a step back from her, squeezing her hand as he does, reluctant to let it go. "But better now than later, I guess."

He releases her hand. It drops back to her side, sinking into the soft material of her dress with the weight of her engagement heavy like a stone.

"We should probably do something about the guests, the ceremony," he adds, shutting down, shutting her out. She used to call him out on it ( _stop going into 'agent mode' on me, Will_ ), but she never had much leverage. Not when her strategies, her habits of shutting people out, are just as bad. Worse. "You may want to change first."

She watches the FBI agent she almost married leave the room without another glance in her direction, their exchange calm, amicable, ending with a clean break - Will's style. So why does her heart feel so brutalized and messy?

Beckett sinks back against the wall, banding her arms around her midsection to quell the swirl of nausea forming there. This isn't how her wedding day was supposed to go, she wasn't supposed to sabotage it like she does everything else, and – and god, her parents must think the absolute worst of her.

Kate slides down the wall until she hits the floor and can curl her knees to her chest, burying her face in the all-consuming tulle of her skirt.

* * *

Castle remains concealed behind a pillar in the church foyer when Will storms past. The groom heads for the main doors with a deep frown carved along his mouth and sucks in a steadying breath before entering. Can't be a good sign for today's proceedings. The wedding must be off or postponed, _something_.

Kate said to wait for her, but Rick's curiosity, his impatience, gets the best of him.

He slips back down the short corridor that is seeing far more action than expected for the day and knocks softly on the door. He receives no answer, but he can hear muffled sobs on the other side and that's enough incentive for him to enter without permission.

He sees Kate huddled in the corner of the room as soon as he opens the door, her body shuddering, her face hidden in the arms folded atop her knees. Castle shuts the door with a quiet click and crosses the room in two long strides, descends to his knees in front of her.

"Hey, Kate," he murmurs, his voice soft, the same one he uses when his daughter is in need of comfort. "Kate, talk to me. What's wrong?"

Her head rises from the cradle of her arms, her eyes broken, bloodshot, and beseeching. "I let them down. Mom and Dad - Rick, I let them down."

"No, you didn't," he disputes without a second thought, scooting around to sit beside her. "Jim and Johanna… they could never _not_ be proud of you."

"I ruined my own wedding day, I hurt a great guy, I - look what I did to you. I'm toxic," she chokes, her entire chest shuddering with the force of her repressed sobs. He hasn't seen her cry like this since the night the detective showed up on her doorstep and told them Johanna had been stabbed, that her mother was dead.

He was there that night, having a home-cooked meal with Kate and her dad when Detective Raglan showed up at the Becketts' apartment with a grim expression that can only mean one thing when being worn by a police officer. Rick caught Kate when she crumpled to the kitchen floor. Jim remained standing in the doorway, long after the police left for the night. Rick stayed on the floor with Kate until daybreak.

"Kate, you are not the first person to cancel their wedding the day of the ceremony," he tries to reason with her, stealing one of her hands from her lap, smoothing his thumb along one of her torn nails, a sign she's been chewing them today. Nervous habit she never broke. "And if Will isn't your one and done, it's better that you ended it before you got married. Believe me, marriage only complicates things."

A strangled laugh crawls past her lips at the visible cringing he puts on display for her.

"I'm so glad you have Alexis, I wouldn't change that part." Kate's lips twitch at the mention of his daughter and oh, he hopes that after this, after they sort all of this out, he is allowed the opportunity to give them a proper chance to know one another. "But I wish I could have been your one and done," she whispers, so quiet he can barely hear her. "I wish my mom was alive, I wish nothing had changed, that I hadn't ruined us. I wish-"

"Kate," he quiets her, releasing her hand to snake his arm around her shoulders. He pulls her in close against his side, craning his neck to drop his forehead against hers. "This is going to sound terribly cheesy, but you… you still are. Still my one and done, always have been. Pretty sure you always will be."

Kate's forehead presses against his neck, her lashes fluttering against his throat. Castle closes his eyes, allows the moment of respite against her. He listens to her breathing calm, feels her tears drying on his skin.

Her head begins to shake. "It's too late."

Her words shatter the moment, his heart.

"Kate-"

"I have to go out there, explain the wedding's off," she sighs, wiping at her eyes. "Can you - can you still wait for me?"

Castle purses his lips but nods, helps her to her feet even though she doesn't need it. Kate is strong, that never changed, even with mascara stains on her cheek and a wrinkled wedding dress adorning her body. She could have given up after Johanna was murdered, but she took the punch to the gut, collapsed to her knees, and staggered back to her feet, standing tall even as the wounds remained open and raw.

And she thinks her parents could be anything less than proud of her?

"As long as you need."

He hates to admit it, but he knows he'd wait a lifetime for her. It already feels as if he has.

* * *

"I don't _know_ , Mother."

Kate's lips quirk at the groan of exasperation she can hear as she slips through the back entrance of the church. Her eyes immediately catch on the set of Castle's shoulders, the ruffle of his hair in the light breeze, and the shiver of his frame. She told him he could just wait in her dressing room, where it's actually warm, but Rick insisted on the need for the fresh winter air. She watched him walk through the wide doors and into the cold, a tempting escape, while she swallowed her fears and faced the church full of friends and family gathered together to see her marry Will Sorenson.

It was awkward, uncomfortable, but Lanie stood close by her side, giving her encouraging head nods and glaring at anyone who dared even a glance of criticism. Will remained passive for the most part, stoic as he made a brief statement at the altar, addressing the chapel like a courtroom.

"We thank you all for coming, but Kate and I have come to the decision that we will not be getting married today. Our sincerest apologies for any inconveniences this may have caused."

And that was it. No questions, no further explanations, only confused murmurs amidst the crowd when the former fiances turned their backs on the assembly and retreated their separate ways.

Kate gave Will his ring back before he could disappear with his parents, whispering one last apology before escaping to gather her belongings from the dressing room with Lanie's help. The rest of Kate's bridesmaids weren't necessarily of Kate's choosing, most of them Will's sisters and cousins, and she's thankful for it. Lanie was the only person to stand by her with unwavering support and Lanie was the only one she wanted helping her pack up her things.

"Girl, I better get one _long_ phone call tonight filled with one hell of an explanation about how you know Richard Castle and just called off your wedding because of him," Lanie informed her as she zipped up the garment bag protecting Kate's dress. "But thank God he showed up because you should definitely be marrying a man who looks at you like writer boy does."

Kate rolled her eyes but felt her heart ease with relief. No longer did she doubt that Will isn't her 'one and done', but to have her (other) best friend confirm it for her, to point out the flaws as she has many times before (when Kate simply didn't want to see them), solidified her decision.

"I'm not marrying him, Lanie," she chuckled, but her maid of honor scoffed.

"Not _yet_ , but when you do, I better be your maid of honor again. And please, I know you hate wedding planning, but pick out a better dress for my skin tone next time around, okay?" Lanie muttered, glowering down at the midnight blue fabric clinging to her figure.

"The planner had thought it was a good idea for the winter theme," Kate shrugged. "Besides, you look gorgeous."

"Another thing, winter wedding? Never again, Kate Beckett, I am freezing my ass off."

Kate smothered her laugh in the sleeve of the hoodie she withdrew from the overnight bag she packed for the honeymoon. Huh, she'd have to talk to Will about what they were doing with those two tickets to the Bahamas.

"I promise, Lanie," Kate murmured, slinging her bag over her shoulder and stepping forward to embrace her best friend. "If I ever have another wedding, it'll be better for us both."

Lanie grinned and squeezed Kate's arm. "I believe you."

"No, do not take Alexis ice skating," Castle huffs, reeling her back to the present. Kate steps silently down the concrete stairs that lead to the pavement, where Rick stands huddled in his pea coat with his phone pressed to his ear. "She's three and you can't skate for your life, Mother."

Beckett chuckles this time, her grin still in place when he spins around at the sound of her, that crooked smile she longed for splitting his face wide open.

"Hold on just a second," Castle murmurs, lowering his phone to his chest and roving his eyes over her change in attire - the cozy NYPD hoodie she can never leave behind when she travels, the dark denim jeans, and pair of Converse sneakers. "Hey."

"Hey," she returns, chewing on her bottom lip and glancing towards the street. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Sure," he answers all too quickly, the light in his eyes beaming. "Where do you want to go?"

Her teeth bear down harder on her lip, threatening to tear through the tender flesh at the question. She can't go to her apartment, not when Will's things are still scattered across the place, and she doesn't want to part ways with Rick either.

"With you," she shrugs, playing nonchalant, but Castle doesn't attempt to hide his delight in her response.

"Want to come to my loft, have a late lunch with my mother and Alexis?"

She should hesitate, should probably decline an invitation to be in such a personal space with him so soon. She should just go home alone.

But she can't bear the idea of parting ways with him again, not so soon.

"Sounds perfect," she murmurs, bumping his shoulder with hers and nudging him towards the street, eager to place some distance between them and the church.

"Mother," Castle resumes his conversation, stealing Kate's garment bag from her opposite arm as they stride across the street. "Just stay put, Kate and I will be there in ten. Yeah, we'll discuss it later. Love you too."

"Is Martha okay with me coming over?" she asks while he tucks his phone back into the pocket of his coat.

"Um, more like thrilled," Rick corrects, slowing to a stop with her once they've managed to cover a few blocks and her bones are starting to bristle under the chill of the weather. Kate throws out her arm for a taxi, grateful when one speeds up to meet them, and drags Castle inside the heated cab with her. "She missed you too, you know."

Beckett sighs, listens to Castle give the cabbie an address in SoHo, and settles against his side when he leans back into the seat.

"It's going to be okay," he whispers, glancing to her from the corner of his eye. "Promise."

 _I keep my promises._

She can't be certain that's true, that he'll be able to keep this one, but she embraces it anyway like she embraces the tentative warmth of his hand covering hers. She tries to believe that he may be right.


	4. Chapter 4

Kate holds a little tighter to his hand once the cab stops in front of his loft, her eyebrows twitching upwards as they step inside the lobby and receive a warm welcome from his doorman.

"Wow," she murmurs, trailing alongside him through the lobby to the elevators. "You rich or something?"

"I told you that one day I'd have the best apartment in the city," he teases, nudging her with his elbow at the reminder. Because maybe he can still be her best friend after all, still the boy she grew up alongside. Still the boy who had a massive crush on his best friend.

"You definitely stuck true to your word," she appraises, but her hand is beginning to fidget with his as the lift ascends to the building's top floor, her palm growing clammy. Castle brushes his thumb along her knuckles, tries to soothe whatever it is that may be wrong.

The elevator doors part before he can question her, inquire about the sudden rise in her nerves. It isn't his wealth, he knows that much. Both of Kate's parents were lawyers and the apartment she grew up in was telling of that. The only reason he and his mother were able to step foot in such an expensive building was due to Martha's connection to the landlord who offered them a significantly lowered rent.

She isn't uncomfortable because of the setting and she seemed eager to see his mother and daughter again, so maybe… oh, he hopes she isn't having second thoughts about calling off her wedding.

"Are we going to leave the elevator?" Kate prompts, nudging on his shoulder, her eyes expectant and curious. No doubt, still a little shame, some guilt, but no signs of a mistake hiding in her gaze.

Rick offers her a sheepish smile and leads her down the hallway. "Sorry."

"Daydreaming?" she murmurs, brow lifting with the question.

He retrieves his keys from his pocket before they reach his door. "Not necessarily."

 _You're already here_ , he almost says. But no, too much. It's all too much too soon right now.

He unlocks the front door, hearing the scamper of little feet before they can step inside.

"Ready?" he asks, but Kate is already following him past the threshold.

"Daddy!" Alexis squeals, a flash of red hair running towards them. He bends to catch her, keeping Kate's hand in his as he scoops his daughter from the ground and up into his arms. He'll eventually have to stop carrying her, but he values the time he has to spoil his daughter, to let her be his baby for a while longer. "Oh and Kate!" Alexis realizes belatedly, peeking over his shoulder to smile at her. "Hi."

Beckett chuckles softly at his side and wiggles her fingers in a wave. "Hi Alexis, I like your sweater."

His daughter glances down to the royal purple sweater she's been wearing nonstop lately, delight illuminating her features at the compliment. Because, of course, his kid is going to adore Kate. He never doubted that, but to see it happening, to witness his daughter so accepting of a stranger she's only heard stories about, still manages to steal his breath.

After Meredith left for good when Alexis was only two, he noticed the toll the divorce, the constant fighting and lack of attention from her own mother, took on his child. It leaves a heavy, unmoving stone of dread sitting in the middle of his stomach. Meredith would never be the kind of mother that Alexis needs; it's only been four years and his ex-wife has already proven that, but his little girl shouldn't have to suffer for it.

"Thanks! Do you wanna help me and Gram with the takeout?" Alexis asks but Castle huffs before Kate can answer.

"I told Gram I would cook."

"Gram said you were taking too long and we were going to starve," Alexis informs him with a shrug, followed by a sympathetic pat to his cheek that earns a muffled laugh from the woman still linked by the hand to his side. "You can cook dinner, Daddy."

"Thank you for the consolation, Pumpkin," Castle sighs, bending to allow Alexis an easy hop to the floor, watching her skip back towards the kitchen. "You look overwhelmed."

Kate blinks, meeting his eyes while he lets go of her to shed his coat, hanging it in the closet. She shakes her head, releases a long breath.

"Not overwhelmed, not by this," she murmurs, sweeping her hand over the view of his living room. "Just by the day. Seeing you again, backing out of my wedding, meeting your daughter."

"It's a lot for one day," he nods, his hand rising to her cheek of its own volition, his thumb sweeping beneath her eye where the concealer has faded, exposed the smudges of purple staining her skin. He never got to touch her like this before, has no right to do it now, but it comes so naturally, so easily, and she doesn't try to move away. "You don't have to stay, Kate. You don't have to-"

"I want to," she promises him, coiling her fingers at his wrist as his slide into her hair, cradling the back of her skull. "I want to be here."

Castle resists the urge to kiss her, again, forcing himself to remember that she _just_ ended things with another man, that the two of them have just reunited after five years and this is still too new. There has to be some sort of waiting period - a reconciliation period on top of that - before even thinking about taking their friendship to another level.

"Then let's go have lunch," he breathes, brushing a light kiss to her forehead in compromise before allowing the hand in her hair to fall to the small of her back, guiding her towards the dining area his mother must have already set up.

"Kate, darling! I'm so sorry about the turn of events, but so happy to have you here," his mother exclaims, sashaying forward to embrace Beckett, folding Kate into her arms. His mother murmurs something into her ear that Rick can't catch, but it manages to pull a quiet laugh from Kate's lips.

"Thank you, Martha. It's good to see you again," Kate chuckles as his mother struts back towards the dining room table, serving even portions of chicken, lo mein, and vegetables onto each plate, and adding an extra egg roll to Alexis's.

"As you can see, the meal plan hasn't changed much when under dictation of my mother," Castle jokes, taking a seat beside Kate, across from his daughter and his mother, who glares at him from over the edge of her glass of water.

"I don't ever remember Katherine complaining when we had her over for dinner."

"Because we had the perfect balance going," Rick explains, plucking his fork from the tabletop and spearing a piece of orange chicken. "Takeout in the Rodgers' apartment, home-cooked meals in the Beckett's."

"You know that's an exaggeration," Kate huffs, knocking his elbow from the table with the nudge of hers. "Sometimes my parents would both be so busy, we'd live off leftovers for a few meals."

"Still home-cooked leftovers," Castle shrugs, dividing his smirk between Kate and his mother while Alexis chews on her noodles, studying the three of them.

"Are you going to start having dinner with us like you used to when Daddy was little, Kate?" Alexis chirps, innocent question brimming in her eyes, but Martha turns an expectant gaze onto the woman beside him. Rick sucks in a shallow breath through his nose and drops his hand to Kate's knee beneath the cover of the table, gives it a reassuring squeeze. No pressure.

Well, not from him anyway.

Kate doesn't acknowledge him, but the corner of her mouth is quirking in silent appreciation. Though, she doesn't appear nearly as unnerved by the question as he expected.

"Sure, Alexis. Would that be okay with you?"

"Of course!" his daughter beams, the apples of her cheeks rising to her eyes. "You're my daddy's best friend, maybe you can be one of mine too."

Kate smiles, that wide brilliant one that could illuminate an entire room. "I would love that."

"Hey, maybe I don't want to share Kate," Castle cuts in, earning an exasperated look from Alexis as he has many times before.

"Daddy, we talked about this," she sighs, taking a short sip of her fruit juice and pointing one tiny finger at him from across the table. "Sharing is caring."

"You're raising her right, Rick," Kate chuckles from his side, grinning cheekily around a mouthful of steamed broccoli.

"Or she's raising me."

"Daddy says I'm good at self-parenting," Alexis states proudly.

"We have no idea where she gets it," Martha adds, reaching out to brush back a strand of hair slipping from Alexis's braid. "Certainly not from her mother." Martha makes a visible cringe and he doesn't miss the amused flicker in Kate's eyes at that. "But the child is more responsible than both of us combined."

Alexis nods. "Gram says I'm the most… 'sponsible pea in our pod."

"Pea pod bond?" Kate recalls, her lips stretching with memory. He can practically see her thinking back to his mother's talks from their childhood of a bond she was once a part of.

"Exactly," Martha answers for him. "And you're welcome back into our pod at any time, darling."

Castle's hand hasn't drifted far from her knee, so he covers the bone of her patella once more.

"What she said."

Kate's chin dips, the curve of her lips turning bashful and her hair slipping forward to hide her face. But she fits her fingers through the splay of his and his heart skips like he's a teenager all over again.

* * *

Martha leaves the loft shortly after lunch, chattering about an acting class she's teaching uptown and promising Alexis that she'll return tomorrow for a Sunday morning breakfast. His mother hugs him and kisses Beckett's cheek, thanks her once again for coming. Kate and Martha got along well throughout Kate's youth, but she doesn't remember the woman who was once like a second mother to her ever being this appreciative of her presence.

Not without a good reason. And something tells her that Castle inspiring her to back out of her wedding will not inspire good faith for long.

Castle doesn't allow her to overthink it, though, presenting the idea of a movie day that earns Alexis's immediate approval and the swing of her attention onto Kate. It has the white-hot flare of panic returning to sweep through her chest; she shouldn't be here in the first place, shouldn't stay, but his little girl is already looking at her with those wide blue eyes that are far too bright and familiar.

"Are you going to watch movies with us, Kate?"

She swallows hard, gaze flickering to Castle watching them from a few feet away, the same look in his eyes. She wants to make a run for the front door, wants to follow them to the couch at the same time, feeling both trapped and content. Needing to go, wanting to stay.

"Sure."

And that's how she spends the rest of her wedding day, snuggled under a tent of blankets with Richard Castle and his daughter, indulging in a _Star Wars_ marathon from the early afternoon into Alexis's bedtime.

"Pumpkin." Castle nudges the little girl splayed out on the fleece blanket between them. She migrated there after the first film, shyly cozying up to Kate while Castle popped in the second DVD. "I won't make you take a bath tonight, but you at least have to brush your teeth."

Alexis blinks awake, staring for a moment at the credits playing on the screen and then rolling towards her father. Castle shuffles to his knees and gathers his daughter into his arms while Kate rises to disassemble the fort.

"I'll be right back," he whispers. "Make yourself comfortable."

Castle is adjusting Alexis against his chest, climbing the stairs before she can say anything, his daughter waving sleepily to her from over his shoulder.

"Bye Kate, hope you come back," she sighs out, her small cheek smudged against the fabric of Castle's t-shirt.

Kate smiles to herself once she's alone, picking the slew of blankets up off the floor and sinking onto the leather sectional at her back. She already kind of loves his daughter, isn't surprised by that at all; she already loves being here, being a part of the pod again.

She buries her head in her hands.

Her phone is in the pocket of her hoodie that is now hanging in his coat closet and she digs her thumbs into her temples at the thought of checking it. Hiding out with Rick and his little girl for the day has been the perfect reprieve, the best remedy to her own self-destruction, but it failed to prepare her to face reality once again.

"This can't be good." Castle's voice floats into the room a few minutes later, the sound of his footsteps growing closer until they are eventually muted by the soft ivory rug carpeting the living room floor.

She sighs when he plops down beside her, the outside of his thigh grazing hers, eliciting a wonderful, inappropriate spread of warmth through the fabric of her jeans.

"What's the matter, Kate?"

Beckett withdraws her hands, clasps them between her knees, but does her best not to look at him, not yet. Looking at him makes her heart flutter and soar, makes the urge to kiss him come alive and take control, makes things twice as complicated as they already are.

She's sitting in her childhood best friend's living room after spending the day with him and his family, after almost kissing him - not the groom - on her wedding day, after having no form of contact with him for five years that feels nonexistent now.

It shouldn't hit so quick, old feelings coming to the surface like they never left; it shouldn't be so easy to want him again, for him to want her.

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"Which can lead to disaster," he chuckles.

She does risk a look at him for that, pinning him with her best glare.

"I need to talk to Will about the honeymoon stuff, make sure everything gets refunded, along with the gifts for the wedding, all the registry stuff, and god, that dress-"

"Breathe, Kate," he reminds her, laying a palm flat between her shoulder blades, comforting her with the simple weight of his hand at the upper half of her spine. "It'll all be taken care of, but this _just_ happened a few hours ago. Give yourself a chance to wind down a bit."

"I think you and Lanie are the only ones who don't hate me for this," she murmurs wryly, raking her fingers through her limp curls, the bobby pins gone and still strewn across the vanity of the master bathroom that he allowed her to retreat to before the movie.

"Anyone who hates you for this is an idiot," he informs her with such confidence that her lips twitch with the threat of a smile.

"You're biased," she sighs, but Castle is shaking his head, his hand dropping from her vertebrae to find hers, squeezing the naked fingers of her left hand. They feel so much lighter without the weight of Will's diamond engagement ring.

"Kate, if you had been wrong about this, I would have told you. Your maid of honor, Lanie, would have told you. You know in your heart what the right thing to do is," he murmurs, his brow creasing with the earnestness of his tone. "If I remember correctly, that's what Johanna always told you."

Kate sucks in a breath of surprise, knowing he doesn't intend the words as a low blow, but any mention of her mother still punches her in the gut, strangles her lungs of air for a moment too long.

"I - I think she would have encouraged me to make the same choice I did today," she agrees on a trembling breath, imagining her mother telling her to follow her heart, to be the runaway bride, to run to Rick if it was what she wanted. Johanna Beckett was always a sensible woman, smart and practical, but a dreamer nonetheless.

"And you know Jim would have backed her up in a heartbeat."

Laughter escapes from her mouth, breathy and scraped raw, but it feels good, the tight coil in her chest unfurling.

"Of course, he would have." Her fingers flex beneath the cover of Rick's, her palm flipping to find his. She shifts her focus to the size of her hand in his, the way his thick fingers and broad palm engulf hers with such ease. It helps dispel the tears threatening to form once again in her eyes. "I just don't want to let them down."

"You could never let them down," he repeats, promises. "Especially not like this."

Kate nods, but it's not enough for him, her doubts tugging on his instinct to keep talking, keep making assurances, to fix her broken heart.

"I'll help with everything," he tries, stroking his thumb along her knuckles and offering her that boyish grin that steals her heart without the slightest hint of resistance. "The dress, for instance, is an easy fix. You can keep it, wear it again if you choose to marry someone else."

"You've already seen me in it."

They both stiffen at the same moment, her words registering in her own ears the second they touch his. Kate turns to him with wide eyes, a gaping mouth.

"All about following traditions, Beckett?" he teases, making his best attempt at diffusing her panic. She deflates with relief for it, gratitude. "I'd still be speechless," he adds, just because he never knows when to shut up. "If I saw you walking towards me, looking like you had today, I'd be just as dumbstruck. For the record."

Nearly kissing him once today was too much, it's too soon for anything more, but he's staring at her with the line of his mouth in a gentle curve, his eyes soft and lovely, looking at her as if she's left him speechless here in her disheveled curls and a simple t-shirt. _It's too soon_ , her mind echoes with the reminder and she _knows_ , but Kate places her free hand to his jaw, absorbs the heat of his skin and the tickle of his stubble against her palm as she dusts her lips to the corner of his for just a moment. Hardly a kiss, but enough for her to feel the sparks of electricity, the titillating sensation of his mouth just barely grazing hers.

Just enough and still too much for either of them to take.

"I believe you," she whispers, grateful for the arm that wraps around her shoulders, draws her in against his chest, curling her in close while he drops his lips to the top of her head, content to breathe her in, nothing more.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to stop next time you do that, Kate," he murmurs into her hair.

"Neither am I," she confesses, pulling her knees to the side of his ribs, hooking her fingers in the collar of his t-shirt. "But I want to be… better than this before that happens. I want the timing to be better the next time I kiss you."

"You do have a bad habit of kissing me when things are going awry," he affirms, the amusement in his voice tugging a laugh from her chest despite how depressing the truth of that statement it is.

"Habit I need to break."

"What do we do in the meantime, while you break this habit?" he follows up, curling his fingers over the bone of her shoulder.

Kate takes in a deep breath before she disentangles from him, sitting straighter on the couch and meeting his eyes. "We make up for lost time. We get to know each other again. I know we have the potential to be more, Rick, but above all else, you were my best friend first and no matter what kind of relationship we end up in, I want our friendship to be the basis of it."

The corners of Castle's eyes crinkle with his smile and the fingers still knotted with hers on his knee squeeze.

"Not a bad plan."

The fist of nerves around her stomach releases, relief seeping out through her system as Rick rises from the sofa, drawing her up along with him. It was always so easy with him, so effortless, and she expected that to change after everything, all she put him through.

She's so thankful it hasn't.

Kate glances forlornly towards the front door as he mentions grabbing her coat for her, departure the proper choice. The urge to stay is so much stronger. It's mere seconds before he knows, of course he knows, reading her mind before she speaks a word. Castle offers her the guest room upstairs, but she shakes her head, hefting her duffel onto her shoulder.

"But it would work out so perfectly. You already have a bag packed and everything."

"Next time, Castle," she murmurs, drifting towards the door with him lagging at her side.

"Next time, huh?" His eyes are a smoldering blue when she turns her head to meet his gaze, hunger and promise twined together in the flicker of slow burning flames consuming his irises. "You're welcome here anytime, Kate. Day or night."

He reaches past her for the door handle, drawing it open but pausing with his face too close. She can see so clearly the little boy she grew up with, the teenager she had a crush on, the man she fell in love with. She wants to do it all over again - wants to know him, learn him, love him for a second time.

A last time?

"But just know that the next time you kiss me." Castle brushes his lips to her forehead, soft and chaste and failing to linger, before he pulls away to let her retreat to the hall. "I'll show you how much I missed you."

She leaves his loft with her heart in her throat and her skin on fire.


	5. Chapter 5

"Yo, Beckett. Thought you were going to be honeymooning for the week," Esposito comments, observing her with an arched brow as she takes a seat across from him at her desk.

Kate almost reveals that she thought the same.

She contacted Montgomery this morning and explained the situation with as little detail regarding her failed wedding as possible and he allowed her to come in for an afternoon shift. She knows he isn't necessarily happy about it, encouraging her to just indulge in the time off, but Kate needs to work, needs to bury herself in something other than the wedding she called off twenty-four hours ago and the dormant feelings for Castle that are consuming her mind, her troubled heart.

She needs her head back in reality and her captain understands that, could probably hear it in her voice when she asked to return to work as soon as possible.

"Plans changed," is all she offers up and her fellow officer doesn't push. After nearly two years of working together, Esposito knows better than to inquire about details that are none of his business, just as she knows the same boundaries are intact on his end.

"Sorenson was an idiot anyway," Espo mumbles, his gaze trained on his computer screen.

Beckett's lips quirk at the comment. She doesn't think ill of Will, especially not after what she did to him yesterday, but she appreciates Esposito's brotherly way of sticking up for her decisions.

Even when he has no idea what they entailed.

"Enough wedding talk," Beckett starts, glancing to the murder board, mostly empty but scattered with a few photos. "Do we have a case?"

"Yep," he sighs, passing her the file from his desk. "You missed all the fun. I spent yesterday morning dumpster diving for three hours straight."

"And did you find anything?" she murmurs, reading over what they have on their victim so far.

"Nah, a newbie found it after only five minutes in the trash," Esposito mutters. "Damn beginner's luck. Not sure if Captain mentioned it to you already, but he said we're getting a new member added to our team soon, some guy from narcotics."

Kate nods, Montgomery ran the information by her earlier in the week, and while she's skeptical of someone new intruding on her well-established dynamic with Esposito, Kevin Ryan seems like a respectable officer. "Jeez, I leave for one day and your whole world falls apart."

Esposito grumbles in Spanish, a combination of curse words she recognizes, and Beckett tosses her nearest pen at him. The rest of her life is a mess, but at least her job, the work, and her colleagues, have managed to remain the same.

* * *

It's approaching five o'clock when Rick finally gives in and dials the number Kate tapped into his phone before she left last night. He paces around his office while the line rings three and a half times before her voice is filling his ear again.

"Beckett," she snaps and his eyebrows hitch. She sounds so professional, intimidating and prepared to get straight to business. Kinda hot.

"Kate?" he inquires, practically able to hear her entire demeanor changing from across the line. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, sorry about that," she chuckles, the sounds of papers shuffling in the background of accompanying chatter and ringing phones. "I didn't even check my caller ID before I answered."

"Ah, so that was your cop voice? Oddly arousing," he muses, smirking when she scoffs at him for it.

"Is there a reason you're calling?" Kate questions, but he catches the amusement in her tone.

"Other than to hear your sultry voice? Yeah, I was actually calling to ask if you wanted to grab something to eat after work," he explains, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It isn't as if he's asking her on a date, but the nerves lacing through his insides beg to differ. "I know we spent all day together yesterday, so I completely understand if you need some space, but I just thought we could-"

"I don't need space," she cuts in, her words low but gentle, and the clamor of his heart quiets with relief. "Would six-thirty be okay?"

"Yes, of course," Rick replies, leaning against the windowpane, casting his gaze over the streets below. "Did you want me to meet you there?"

"Sure, I can text you the address."

"Great, see you in about an hour then?"

"Yeah," she murmurs, a secret smile in her voice that he recognizes from years past. "See you soon, Rick."

He smiles like an idiot once the call has disconnected. He's already dressed, but Castle trots back into his bedroom, crossing through to the en suite. He assesses himself with a critical eye in the bathroom mirror and running his fingers through his hair and brushing back the strands that sometimes flopped forward to skim his forehead. If this _were_ a date, he would change into one of his good button down shirts, maybe buy her flowers (he wonders if sunflowers are still her favorites), and take her to the most romantic restaurant he could think of.

He won't deny that he harbors hope for that little daydream to be a real possibility someday soon, but for now, he plans to take Kate on a casual, _strictly friendly_ dinner date, to continue catching up as they had the day before, and embrace this reclaimed connection with his former best friend.

Nothing more. Not now, not yet.

A knock resounds through the loft, startling him back from the mirror, and out of his bedroom to reach the front door. But he's already found a smile for who he knows is on the other side.

He opens the door to his little girl chatting excitedly with her best friend, pausing mid sentence to beam up at him.

"Daddy!" Alexis greets, skipping forward to hug his knees, as if it's been so much more than a couple of hours since she saw him last. Damn, he's going to miss these days when she's older.

"Hey Pumpkin," he chuckles. "Did you have fun with Paige?"

"Tons!" his daughter gushes, the braid of her hair swinging as she glances back to her best friend with a smile. "Bye, Paige. See you tomorrow. Take care of Marcel!"

"Marcel?" Rick echoes.

"The sea monkey they both seem to favor," Paige's mother cuts in with a grin. "Apparently, he stands out among the other ten that came in the pack."

"I will!" Paige, the little girl with chestnut colored pigtails, returns, waving with the hand that isn't clasped in her mother's.

"Thanks for dropping her off, Diane," Rick adds, squeezing his daughter's shoulder before she can trot off into the living room.

"Not a problem, Rick. Thank you for letting us borrow Alexis for a play date," Paige's mother returns with a pleasant smile. He likes Diane, likes even more that she's happily married and doesn't hit on him like the rest of Alexis's friends' mothers. "Have a nice evening."

"You too."

Paige and Dianne disappear down the hall and Rick closes the door, following Alexis's footsteps into the living room and propping his hip against the arm of the sofa. She's already fiddling with the TV remote, searching for cartoons.

"Hey Pumpkin, do you mind if Gram stays with you for a little while tonight?"

Alexis tears her eyes away from the animated adventures of an elephant and his friends on the screen. "Sure, Daddy. Do you have to go work with Paula?"

He doesn't miss the sour look on his daughter's face and tries not to laugh. No need to encourage that.

"No, sweetie. Just going out with a friend for a couple of hours, but I'll be back in time to tuck you in and everything."

Alexis nods her approval, her attention already waning, falling victim to the television screen once more. "Gram's going to play with me?"

The topic of conversation unlocks the door at that moment, his mother gliding inside the loft with her usual flair.

Castle strokes back the fringe of Alexis's bangs from her forehead. "I'm sure she'll play whatever you want."

"That I will, kiddo," Martha chimes from the open doorway, unfurling the silk scarf from around her neck and sashaying towards the sofa to peck his cheek and receive a hug from Alexis. "Perhaps we can even rehearse my lines for tomorrow's show together, hmm?"

"Mother, she can't read yet."

"I can too, Daddy! I read every night," Alexis protests in a matter of fact tone, earning a look of appraisal from his mother.

"I don't want her reading anything above the PG rating," Castle warns his mother, but she merely placates him with a wave of her hand.

"Says the man who reads her his first drafts," she mutters while Rick bends over the couch to kiss his daughter goodbye.

"I value the opinions of the female audience, right, Pumpkin?"

Alexis nods and climbs onto her knees to wrap her arms around his neck. "Can we read a bedtime when you get home, Daddy?"

"Of course," he promises, blowing a raspberry into her cheek to hear her giggle in his ear. "Make sure Gram doesn't get into trouble while I'm gone."

"Honestly, Richard," Martha drawls as he leans over to peck her cheek. "Our girl couldn't be in better hands."

"No drinking."

"I _know_ ," she sighs, patting his shoulder. "Where are you off to, by the way?"

"Daddy's going on a play date," Alexis quips, causing his mother's eyes to flicker with intrigue, but Rick ignores her, retrieving his coat from the closet.

"Oh? With whom, darling?" But she knows, the gleam in her eye teasing now.

"Just a friend. I'll see you both a little later," he deflects with a narrowed gaze on his mother and his hand on the door.

"Bye, Daddy! Have fun," Alexis calls out.

Castle smiles back at her as he steps out into the hallway. "You too, Pumpkin. Love you both."

He closes the door before his mother's smirk can grow.

* * *

Castle is waiting on the sidewalk for her when she steps out of the Twelfth, bundled up in a peacoat and a scarf that protects his neck from the brisk chill.

"Hey," she greets with a smile that cracks her lips open and has his eyes sparking a brilliant ice blue amidst the grey of the surrounding sky. "I hope you weren't out here long."

"No, just a few minutes," Rick assures her, reaching for her waist, but Kate shakes her head. She flicks her eyes towards the precinct, surprised by his immediate understanding. They were sometimes able to speak without words as kids, communicating through simple looks and subtle gestures that would drive their parents crazy, but she wouldn't have expected the childhood codes to carry on into adulthood. "Were you in the mood for anything specific?"

"Not really. I could do without a second helping of Chinese food for the day, though." They begin venturing down the sidewalk, Rick waiting until they're crossing the street to settle his hand to her lower back. "What about you?"

"I know an Italian place not far from here. A Thai place too, or seafood if you're in the mood for that," he lists, dropping his hand from her back to retrieve his phone from the pocket of his coat. "Or I can make a reservation at-"

"The Italian place sounds fine," she chuckles, tucking her hands into her own coat pockets to refrain from stealing one of his. Too soon. It's just too soon and they're just friends.

"Great, so what'd you do at work today? Take down any bad guys?"

Kate huffs at the genuine excitement illuminating his features. "Well, since I was lucky enough to avoid yesterday's dumpster diving, Esposito and I did some canvassing."

"That's it?"

Kate shrugs in response. "Some days are slower than others."

"Your job is lacking the badassery I was expecting," he sighs, slowing in front of a café's entrance and holding the door for her.

"Keep in mind, this was more of a half day for me, Castle. I only worked a few hours," she points out, stepping inside the warmth of the building and inhaling the delicious scent of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. "Not to mention, I'm not a detective yet. Working as an officer requires a lot, but it isn't quite as exciting."

"I bet you're the highest ranking officer, aren't you?" Rick inquires with a proud quirk to his lips. His broad palm finds its way to the bottom of her spine again as they follow the rules of the sign and seat themselves, finding a booth near the back.

"I do okay," she muses, admiring the glow of golden lighting the restaurant casts upon his face. Castle has always been good looking, she was never blind to that, but now, as an adult in his mid twenties, she's able to truly appreciate the man he's grown into.

He scoffs at her and peruses the menus already set out on the table. "Don't be modest, you were always better than okay."

Kate rolls her eyes and mimics him, looks over the menu and awaits their server to make his way to their table. Castle points out all of the best dishes before the younger man can greet them, asking for their drink orders and returning with two waters and a notepad.

"Will you kill me if I ask a personal question?" Castle murmurs once the boy is gone with their food orders.

She hesitates, but shakes her head in reply. She had a feeling dinner with him would eventually lead to picking up where they left off, filling in all of the blank spaces left between them.

"How long after did you change your major?" Rick asks around his straw. He plays the question off as nonchalant, but she knows that asking about what happened after they parted ways isn't easy for him. It isn't easy for her to provide answers either, but he deserves them, of that she's certain.

"As soon as winter break was finished," she murmurs, catching drops of condensation on her glass with her fingernail. "It wasn't hard since I was already enrolled in the world of law. Criminal Justice wasn't a far stretch and once I was in the Academy, I gave it everything I had. I did always wonder how we kept from running into each other on campus, though."

"I published my first book only a few months prior to graduation, dropped out in my second to last semester," he explains, watching the dance of her fingers along the glass. "And avoiding someone isn't too hard in this city."

"I wasn't…" Her sentence trails as his eyes flicker up to meet hers, to pin her with a gentle reprimand. Always gentle, never holding her completely accountable for all the hurt she's instilled. "I wasn't thinking at the time, about anything other than my training. It was the only way to keep my head above water."

"I could have thrown you a life preserver," he mutters, diverting his gaze to the ice cubes in his own glass. "I'd have built you a boat if you'd let me."

Kate sighs, her fingers twitching atop the table. "I know you would have, Rick. You would have done anything for me-"

"Then why not let me?" he demands, his eyes sharp when they rise to hers once more, piercing and spearing right through her. "Why… why not ask for time, for space? Why cut me out of your life completely? I know that I was part of your past, but did you ever consider that I could have helped? That I would have understood better than anyone else?"

His questions are direct but soft, lacking anger but swollen with heartbreak. Sitting across from her, he looks like the boy she remembers from the day of her mother's funeral, so lost and confused, hurt and betrayed on the steps of a church. Abandoned.

Shit, she abandoned him, didn't she? All along, she hoped to spare him from the black hole of her grief, but she just created one for him as well.

"I would have drowned you right along with me," she whispers, reaching across the table to place a tentative hand atop his. "Rick, I was so… I wasn't the girl you - that you-"

"Loved?" he fills in for her, slowly withdrawing his hand from beneath hers, lowering it to his lap with the fall of his eyes.

"I could barely function most days. And you - you reminded me too much of how it used to be," she finally sighs, staring down at her empty hand on the polished wood of the table. "Of them, and I needed distance, especially after I lost Dad too."

She's afraid to look at him, to read the hurt in his face, afraid to do more damage than she already has barely five minutes into their date.

Wait, no, _not_ a date-

He sighs, the exhale of words so quiet she almost misses it. "I wouldn't have let you drown."

She lifts her eyes, her lips parting to speak, just as their food arrives.

"Rick-"

He shakes his head and shoots her an easy smile, a charming grin. Her chest clenches. "I'm okay, Beckett. Promise. Now, eat your pasta."

She frowns down at her fettuccine, pushes it around with her fork for the majority of their dinner, picking at it through the strained bouts of small talk. Castle huffs at her for it, requesting a takeout box so she can save the meal for later.

"I'm not mad at you," he states after he pays for the dinner before she can protest, holding his hand out to her as they walk into the night.

Kate accepts the embrace of his fingers, keeping the bag of leftovers in her opposite hand and sticking close to Castle's side on the crowded sidewalk.

"You should be."

He squeezes her hand, his throat rippling with a swallow at the same time. "I was five years ago. I kinda hated you five years ago."

"Rightfully," she mumbles, twining their fingers to soothe the ache that beats out a violent rhythm inside her at the words.

"But I understood, Kate. It hurt, still hurts sometimes, but I still understand."

Castle nods towards an upcoming Starbucks. She hums in affirmation, but tugs him to a stop before they can enter the establishment.

"I never stopped thinking about you," she blurts, as if it's any consolation. "I - I almost missed you as much as I missed them."

By the pained expression on his face, she knows it isn't enough, that it's too much. She should back off, give him some space, but finds herself lifting on the toes of her boots and hooking an arm around his neck instead.

She nearly chokes at the instant return of his embrace.

When they were younger, Castle was always the one to comfort her on a bad day, to offer her a hug whenever she needed one, and she's missed that. She's missed the reassurance of his long arms wrapped snug and secure around her frame and the innocent touch of his lips to her temple.

"I'm sorry, Rick. I'm so sorry I left you."

His chest shudders against hers and his arms tighten around her waist, holding her hard enough to crush her ribs, to hurt. But she relishes in the embrace, in the touch of his lips to the cold skin of her neck, the tip of his nose nuzzled in her hair. It's not nearly enough to make up for five years, but it feels like it could be the beginning for them. A new start that her parents' deaths won't be looming over, a chance that hopefully won't be weighed down by the baggage she still carries.

Kate drops back down to the soles of her shoes with her bottom lip between her teeth.

"It was inevitable, wasn't it?" she breathes, horrified by the watery quality to the chuckle she lets free. "Finding each other again?"

"Careful, you sound like you're admitting that you believe in fate," he teases, pulling back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and swiping a thumb to the corner of her eye.

"Fate didn't bring you to my wedding, Rick. That was my dad's fault."

"Determined to crash your wedding even from the afterlife," he muses in return, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. Kate rolls hers and steals his hand from her face to guide him into the coffee shop. "He's proud of you, Kate. Wherever he and Johanna are, I know they're proud of you."

"How?" she questions, stepping into the brief line with Rick too close to her side.

"Remind me to write you a list of all the reasons later."

She shakes her head, but drops her cheek to his shoulder while they wait to make their way to the counter. It's not the same as when they were kids; she would be better. They could be better.

"Castle?"

He hums his acknowledgement, toying with the fingers laced with his and absentmindedly scanning the menu hanging above. Kate lifts her head as they take a step forward.

"Thank you for calling me today."

* * *

He invites Kate back to the loft, because it's early and every time he glances back, she's watching him with soft eyes and a gentle curve to her lips and he doesn't want to say goodnight yet.

"Kate!" Alexis exclaims as they walk through the door with coffees in hand. His daughter scrambles from the couch with wet hair dampening the back of her sky blue pajamas to meet the two of them in the foyer. "You're the friend Daddy went to see?"

"Sure looks that way, kiddo," Martha appraises, rising from the sofa with a sly grin on her lips. "Why the secret, Richard?"

"Yeah, Daddy," Alexis adds, looking up at him with an expectant expression he's certain she's learned from her grandmother. Castle bends to pluck her from the ground, swinging her into his arms to hear her laughter bounce off the walls.

"No secret, I just knew you wouldn't want to come tonight, Pumpkin. All Kate and I did was go to dinner and talk about boring adult stuff," he assures her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and earning an eventual sigh of acceptance. "But Kate made sure to come up and say goodnight to you again."

Kate must take that as her cue to step in, placing her coffee down on the table beside the door and offering Alexis a nod of agreement. "Yeah, no way was I going to head home without dropping in to say hi."

Alexis's lips split into a grin. "Daddy's right, you're a good friend." Alexis pats his arm and Castle returns her bare feet to the floor, watching her skip back into the living room.

"We were just getting ready for bed," Martha explains, waving about the comb in her hand. Meredith attempted to teach Alexis how to brush her own hair the last time she stayed over for a night and it still causes his heart to crack every time he thinks about it. Every time he remembers Alexis sitting alone in her room, frustrated tears in her eyes when she couldn't work the tangles free from her hair without help.

"Gram and I played four rounds of Candyland and then wrote our own play!" Alexis announces from the living room, gathering up an armful of papers from the coffee table. "Look, Daddy."

"Oh wow," Castle murmurs, accepting Alexis's colorful drawings with wide eyes, holding them out for Kate to see as well.

"I think these are worthy of hanging on the refrigerator, Castle," she remarks, utterly serious and he can see his daughter light up with pride from between the sheets of paper.

"I think you're right. You've made Masterpiece Theater here tonight, Pumpkin."

"Of course she did," Martha affirms, grazing a hand through Alexis's drying locks. "Makes sense you'd turn out to be an artist too."

"I'll hang these up, you wait for me upstairs and pick out a book to read for bedtime," Castle instructs, starting for the kitchen and pulling open a junk drawer that he's certain houses a few extra magnets. "And don't forget to brush."

"Daddy, I _know_ ," Alexis sighs, starting for the stairs, but her gaze lingers on Kate standing at the threshold of the kitchen. His daughter shuffles back towards them, snagging Kate's attention, slowing before she reaches her. "Kate, can I hug you 'night?"

"Sure." Kate's already dropping to her haunches, giving his daughter a genuine smile, one that makes it impeccably difficult not to fall harder for her than he already has, already is all over again. Alexis grins, a shy but pleased little quirk of her lips, and loops her arms around Kate's neck.

"Sweet dreams, Alexis."

"Thanks! Will you come over again?"

Kate cuts her eyes up to him for a beat, returns them to Alexis after his short nod of agreement. "Of course, whenever you want. Maybe we can color together and draw some more artwork for the fridge."

Alexis's eyes flicker with excitement. "Yeah! I bet you color real pretty."

"Kate was the best artist in our class when we were kids. She was also the coolest since she had the 64 pack of crayons," Castle quips, pinning all four of Alexis's drawings up on the stainless steel of the refrigerator door.

"Yeah, until you lost all my greens," Kate mutters, rising to stand with Alexis still hovering at her side.

"First of all, how do you remember that? Secondly, I was working on a masterpiece of my own and it had a lot of grass in it."

"Don't worry, Kate. Daddy's more 'sponsible now," Alexis promises her, totally serious and shooting him a proud smile. Castle returns her reassurance with a thumbs up while Kate stifles her laughter. His mother is the one to step in , offering Alexis her hand.

"It was a pleasure to see you again, Katherine," his mother says, her tone charming and her own smile pleasant, but he knows her well enough to catch the difference between sincerity and acting. And he fears Kate does too. "I'm going to accompany this one upstairs, ensure she gets those teeth brushed."

His mother and Alexis head up the stairs, chattering away about Alexis's coloring skills. He turns his eyes to Kate, finds her watching the two ascend to the upper level with trepidation forming frown lines around her mouth.

"Want to stick around for a little while?" Castle asks. "We could watch a movie. I could even make popcorn with the M&Ms in it."

A smile flickers across her lips, but fades away before it can bloom. "It's getting late."

"You could stay in the guest room again," he suggests, but Kate is already shaking her head, curling her fingers at his arm when he approaches, staying him even as she in to kiss his cheek.

"It'll turn into a bad habit," she mumbles, her lips grazing his skin in a second that passes all too quickly before she pulls away.

"Define 'bad'."

"Castle," she chuckles, reclaiming her coffee from the table and walking backwards towards the door. "I have a full day of work tomorrow."

"Fine," he sighs, following her to the doorway, reaching past to ease the front door open for her. "Until tomorrow then."

Kate steps out into the hallway, her bottom lip pinned between her teeth again and her eyes on his mouth. She quickly averts them to the floor.

"Tomorrow," she confirms softly, drifting further from him until she's slipping inside the elevator and he's left staring down the hallway like an idiot.

"Oh, Richard," his mother sighs, startling him so badly he hits his head on the doorframe.

Castle hisses and rubs at his temple, retreating back inside and drawinh the door shut with him. "I thought you were waiting upstairs with Alexis."

"She asked if I could fetch her a glass of water," his mother shrugs, but he doesn't believe that. Alexis doesn't like to drink much before bed. "And I might have been a little worried about you and Katherine," she hedges, far more likely.

"Worried? What do you mean? Yesterday you were-"

"I just want you to be careful, darling, that's all. You know I loved that girl as if she were my own, but Kate was prepared to marry another man a mere forty-eight hours ago. I simply don't want that to be so quickly forgotten," his mother reminds him with a placating lift of her hand.

"We only met today to talk, Mother. It wasn't a date," he assures her with a wave of his own, bypassing her for the stairs.

"But you're already looking head over heels for the girl again," Martha calls out before he can climb the first step. "You two… I want you both to be happy. I adore Katherine, I do, but after everything she's been through in the last few years… Richard, I just don't want her to break your heart all over again."

Oh, and there it was. His mother just hit his biggest fear when it came to Kate Beckett like a nail on the head.

"Neither do I," he confesses, sparing a glance to his mother over his shoulder. "But we're both aware that it isn't the right time to even think about a relationship. For now, we're just friends again. Nothing more."

Reluctantly, his mother nods her acceptance, strings a tentative smile across her lips. "Somehow, I doubt that will last long."

"Mother-"

" _But_ I am glad to see you looking so happy again. No matter the outcome, your happiness, Alexis's happiness, is all that matters to me. Now, go tuck that girl in and read her bedtime story before she reads it to herself."

If his daughter wasn't waiting for him upstairs, he would push the subject further, hash it all out with his mother so they could both find some peace about this. But tonight, he has a little girl who needs him to read her a bedtime story and that is his priority, will always be his top priority.

Soothing his mother's doubts, along with his own, will have to wait.


	6. Chapter 6

Kate's clearing out her desk that evening, putting away the last of the files and gathering her things to head out for the night. It's been a long day and she's tired, just wants to go home and turn her mind off for a while with a bath, a glass of wine, and one of his books.

But a distinct flash of red catches in her peripheral as she turns towards the elevator, a puffy green coat bouncing through the precinct and in her direction.

"Kate!" Alexis beams, her voice hushed but brimming with enthusiasm as the girl makes it to her desk, a sheepish looking Rick following after her.

"Hey," Beckett chuckles, abandoning the open drawer that contains her purse when Alexis reaches out with tentative arms. Bending forward to accept her embrace, Kate lets his daughter's tiny arms band around her waist. "What are you guys doing here?"

The occupants of the homicide floor are beginning to stare, the men who tend to ogle her watching with fair shares of interest and disappointment, her superiors eyeing her with surprise. She's never been one to have visitors, let alone a best-selling author and his adorable kid.

"We came to 'prise you!" Alexis grins, leaning back but hanging onto Kate's waist. His daughter is still reasonably shy, quiet and reserved for the most part, but Kate knows she's becoming more comfortable in her presence, that she's slowly getting attached.

At least it's mutual.

"Oh did you?" Kate inquires, straightening up once Alexis lets her go but remains at her side.

Castle sighs, his hands bound behind his back as if to resist a touch of greeting, offering a shrug of his shoulders instead.

"I wanted to wait in the car, but Alexis was adamant about coming in to see you. I'm sorry, Kate," he adds quieter. "I thought we might catch you walking out. I never planned to come inside. I hope it isn't an inconvenience."

He looks so troubled, so concerned, like he and his daughter might be ruining her reputation. Kate huffs, shakes her head as she places her hand atop Alexis's head, combs her fingers through the wisps of her bangs. She would have preferred a phone call in advance, but she isn't ashamed. Let her nosy colleagues make their assumptions.

"It's fine, Rick. I was just heading out anyway," she assures him, reaching to snag her purse and easing it onto her shoulder. She bites back her wince before he can see it.

They dealt with a combative suspect earlier, the man considering her the weakest link of the officers surrounding him. Her shoulder still flares with the blow it sustained, her arm still tender from the impact of his throat when she clotheslined him.

"So," she murmurs. "A surprise?"

"I may have promised Alexis that since she didn't come to our adult dinner last week, we would go on a kid friendly one this week," he admits, shooting her an apologetic smile.

Since their friendly date the week before, she hasn't had the chance to see much of Rick or Alexis, her schedule too busy and theirs pretty packed as well. Castle's new book is coming out in a couple of months and he'll be doing a lot of press for this one. A handful of photoshoots and interviews were already lined up, a slew of book signings scheduled across the country shortly after the release.

She doesn't want to think about how they just found their way back to one another and he would soon be gone again for at least three weeks. It's selfish of her to dread it, especially when she can handle his absence. She did it willingly for five years, she can do it again for a few weeks.

"Daddy's going to take us to a real nice restaurant," Alexis tells her with relish.

"And by nice, she means a low-key place near the loft where we can dine in comfort and privacy," Castle explains, waving her off when she glances down to her uniform in question. Going out to dinner with her best friend and his daughter in her police attire is hardly appealing, but Alexis's bedtime is at seven and she already knows it would consume too much time to drive to her apartment in Tribeca for a wardrobe change. "We can wait for you outside if you-"

"No, I'm ready," she murmurs, refraining from her jerk of surprise when Alexis grasps her hand, her slim fingers curled around three of Kate's. "And I'm starving, so let's go," she recovers, nudging Rick with her good shoulder and starting for the elevator with a Castle on either side of her, steadfastly ignoring the congregation of gazes on her. Especially Esposito's.

That is, until Captain Montgomery notices them through the slit blinds of his office window.

"Richard Castle," the man calls, rising from his desk and approaching the open door with a growing smile.

"Roy!" Castle returns, breaking away from Kate and Alexis to grab her captain's hand when he extends it. "Good to see you."

More eyes swing towards them and a fresh wave of mortification bubbles in Kate's stomach.

"What are you doing here? And Beckett… you know one of my officers, Rick?"

At least their voices have fallen, too low for the rest of the precinct to hear, but she already knows how others see her – the captain's pet, the overeager detective in training, striving for that record breaking promotion. The last thing she needs is more fuel to the fire.

The situation with Royce earned her enough the year before.

"Ah, well - Kate is an old friend of mine. We're just heading out for dinner at my daughter's insistence," Castle informs Montgomery with an easy smile, so very charming, but Montgomery shifts his gaze to her, arching an eyebrow.

"That's nice. Maybe Beckett will keep you out of trouble," Montgomery teases, showing her mercy and not voicing the intrigue she reads in his eyes as he glances between the two of them, the little girl clinging to her hand.

"No, Sir, that's Alexis's job," Beckett chimes in, grinning at his daughter. Alexis smiles, but sticks close to Kate's leg, hiding from the captain.

"And I'm sure she does it well," Roy nods, throwing a smile of his own towards Alexis before returning his attention to Castle. "I won't hold you both up, though. Have a nice night, Rick. Beckett."

"You too, Sir." Beckett returns, continuing with Alexis towards the elevator.

"And Castle," Montgomery adds before they can make their retreat. "Be sure to let me know when the next poker night is."

"Will do," Rick nods, following behind them, standing at least a foot away from Kate in the lift while Alexis presses the button for the lobby. But as soon as the doors slide closed, Rick is brushing his fingers along her arm.

"Two questions." His fingers pause at the inside of her wrist. "One, how do you know my captain? And two, why does he play poker with you?"

"Daddy has poker games with lots of old guys," Alexis informs her with a proud smile. Kate grins back at her while Rick huffs.

"They're not _just_ old guys," he sighs, dropping his hand from her wrist as the doors part once more. "Every few weeks, I'll have a few authors over for a game, Cannel, Patterson, Connelly. And other times, I'll have a few city officials attend, the mayor, the commissioner…"

"The captain of the Twelfth Precinct," she mutters, walking through the lobby and waving with her free hand to the sergeant stationed at the front desk.

"Yes, him too," Castle concedes once they've stepped out into the brisk embrace of the evening. "I didn't expect to run into him, though. I _really_ would have just waited in the car if I'd known."

"Did Daddy m'barrass you, Kate?" Alexis inquires, burrowing into her bright green coat, blinking against a gust of wind that slaps the three of them with cold, wet air.

Castle comes to a stop in front of a sleek, black town car and taps on the window. The click of locks resounds through the winter breeze and Castle tugs opens the back door.

"No, he didn't," Kate tells Alexis as the girl releases her fingers, accepting her father's assistance into the carseat arranged for her.

Once she's all strapped in, Castle softly shuts the door and ushers Kate around to the opposite side. But he cups her elbow before she can slip into the car with his daughter.

"I know how much your work means to you and I never intended to cause a scene-"

"Rick," she sighs, lifting her chilled fingers to his lips, grazing the tips of her digits along the stubble of his cheek, and watching his worry dissipate beneath the trail of her touch. "You didn't cause a scene. I was off shift and all we did was walk out together, have a quick chat with my captain, it's fine. Just… call next time?"

Castle turns his head, brushing his lips to the heel of her palm. She can't determine if it's the bite of the cold or the white-hot burn of his touch that sends a shudder down her spine. "Will do. Now come on, you're starving and so is my three year old."

Her lips twitch and she waits for a speeding car to pass before opening the door, sliding in to sit beside Alexis. Castle's quick to hustle in beside her, his arm stretching out along the top of the seat. Convenient.

"We're good to go, Eduardo," Castle calls to the driver..

"Kate?" Alexis quips, shifting in her car seat to face Beckett. "Did you catch lots'a bad guys today?"

Kate turns her head, her neck rotating against Rick's forearm, and assesses the bright eyes that match those of the man beside her, the curiosity and childlike wonder. Alexis has never seen her in uniform before and now that the excitement of the station has faded into the falling darkness behind them, the girl is suddenly taking notice of the badge pinned to her chest, the gleaming nameplate above it, and the holster at her hip.

"I did, actually. Usually, it's the detectives who do most of the bad guy catching, though," she murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Alexis's ear, red and chilled from the cold. "Today I just got to help them."

"Are you going to be a… a de-detective one day too?" Alexis asks, her brow furrowed with confusion over the new word.

Kate nods. "I hope so."

"She's going to be the best detective ever," Rick adds, poking his head over Kate's shoulder and earning another giggle from Alexis.

Beckett nudges him back with a huff, noticing the driver beginning to slow as they navigate through SoHo, only a couple of blocks from the loft. Before they can come to a stop in front of a quaint restaurant, hidden between walls of brick and camouflage of other shops, Kate eases the rubber band from her hair, the waves unfurling from the bun she twisted it into this morning. She checks her reflection in the window, not a huge difference, but better, less severe-

"Shit."

Kate cuts her gaze to him at the breath of a curse, arching her brow, but she knows. The moment she meets his eyes, sees the glitter of lust, she knows why.

"Daddy, that's another dollar," Alexis chirps.

Kate laughs, unbuckling her seatbelt while Eduardo parallel parks along the sidewalk.

"At this rate, you'll be able to put yourself through college by the time you're five," Castle chuckles, opening his door and escaping out into the cold, stepping up to the driver's window and exchanging words with Eduardo.

"Kate, can you help me?" Alexis asks, her small fingers fumbling with the fastenings of her seatbelt. Beckett shifts to free his daughter from the straps, aiding her in maneuvering out of the car seat.

"There you go. Here, get out on my side so you don't have to worry about the cars," Kate says, scooting along the leather seats to emerge from the car to the sidewalk, holding her arms out for Alexis.

His daughter grins and reaches for her, holding onto Kate's elbow as she draws Alexis out of the car and places her feet on the damp sidewalk.

"Thanks!"

"No problem, sweetie."

 _Sweetie_? Ugh, no, she's so not okay with calling Alexis overused terms of endearment.

"Wow, you two work fast," Castle appraises, nodding to Eduardo and shutting the back door. He offers one hand to Alexis, placing the other on Kate's waist. So natural and easy, it makes her breath catch.

"Well, we couldn't just wait around for you all evening," Kate picks up, listening to Alexis giggle at her father's side.

"Yeah, Daddy, you and Eddie always talk too long."

"We talked for less than a minute!" Rick protests, jiggling their clasped hands before leading the way into the restaurant, immediately catching the hostess's eye.

"That's sixty whole seconds," Alexis points out, unzipping her coat.

"I'll do my best to work on time management," Rick sighs, lowering his hand from the small of Kate's back when a waiter appears, guiding them to a table near the back of the establishment, tucked away in the corner. Comfortable seclusion.

Alexis climbs into the booth with the kind of familiarity that suggests she's been here before, plopping down onto the plush leather with a bounce that has the flames of her hair fluttering around her shoulders. Castle settles in beside her and Kate slips into the opposite side, facing the entrance. Works well this way – she has eyes on the entirety of the place and anyone who glances their way will see her first, not Castle and his daughter.

"Nice," she comments, grinning as Alexis lifts the kids menu to her face, holding it out with severe concentration etched into her features.

"Right? We've been coming here for years. Don't even have to ask for our table anymore," he quips, shooting their waiter an appreciative smile when the man delivers three waters to the table.

"Good evening, my name is Thomas and I'll be your server tonight," he greets with a friendly grin. "I'll give you a few minutes to look over the menu."

"Thanks," Castle returns, casting his gaze down to his own menu while Beckett does the same, perusing the options.

"Daddy, can I have a cheeseburger?" Alexis inquires, pointing to the photo of the burger and fries on the menu. Kate's stomach growls, has both Castles lifting their eyes to her. "Kate's tummy is hungry."

Castle laughs softly while Kate bites her lip. "I had to skip lunch today, so I'm sure my stomach is starving."

"You had to skip lunch?" Rick murmurs, concern breaching the amusement in his eyes, but Kate waves him off.

"Sometimes work just picks up and there's no time," she explains, lowering her menu to take a sip of her water.

He doesn't look pleased with her answer, but he doesn't argue, not in front of Alexis anyway, who has turned her paper menu over to color on the back with the provided pack of crayons.

"Looks like I have an excuse to start bringing you lunch," he mumbles from across the table, perusing his menu once more with his eyes sparkling again. Kate kicks him under the table, watching the smirk spread across his lips.

"Castle. Don't you dare. The last thing I need is my… friend bringing me lunch in front of all the guys."

"Ashamed of me, Beckett?" he teases, nudging her foot beneath the table.

"No, but my answer may change if you show up at my workplace with food," she warns him, hooking her heel at his calf.

"Mm, what about morning coffee every once in a while?" he suggests, his eyes lighting up the second he notices the intrigue that must escape from behind her gaze to flicker across her face. "Oh, is that the way to Kate Beckett's heart then? A good cup of coffee?"

Kate releases her grip on his shin from beneath the table, shooting him a death glare and scowling around a sip of her water. But it does nothing to dispel the ear-to-ear grin claiming his lips.

"Are you okay, Kate?" Alexis asks, dropping her crayon to glance across the table in concern that she's adopted from her father.

"I'm fine," she assures the girl with a smile while she attempts to clear her throat. "Just swallowed wrong."

Castle hums his amusement and Beckett rolls her eyes, tries to relax in the booth and ignore the sensation of butterflies tickling along her diaphragm. He hasn't necessarily done anything to elicit them, but she's out to dinner with her best friend and his daughter, kicking him under the table and exchanging teasing barbs like they would when they were kids. She's never been one for nostalgia, but being with Castle again… it makes her feel like she's coming home even when it's felt for so long that her home was destroyed, that the idea of a place to find rest was ultimately in ruins.

He isn't the same, neither is she, but he always knew how to provide her with a sturdy foundation, a reliable structure, and she thinks that maybe the home she lost, she can rebuild with him, make it even better.

"Daydreaming, Beckett?" he murmurs from across the table, the light in his eyes dancing. Kate shrugs her shoulder, studies the subtle curve of his brow while he toys with her foot beneath the table once more.

She slouches a little in her seat, leans back and allows the length of her leg to extend towards him.

"Maybe."

"Ooh, about?"

"The coffee you're going to bring me tomorrow morning," she smirks, chewing on her bottom lip when he hooks his fingers around the bone of her ankle and subtly hefts her foot to rest beside his thigh on the seat.

"I'm going to take that to mean you're actually daydreaming about me since it is I who will be delivering the coffee you're fantasizing about," he muses, absentmindedly slipping his thumb beneath her sock, stroking at the skin branded with the indention of fabric.

She purses her lips around the straw of her water, but doesn't deny his theory.

He isn't necessarily wrong.

* * *

"She never lasts long on school nights," Castle whispers while Kate unlocks the front door to the loft for him. His hands are full, cradling his dozing daughter to his chest. "I'll just go tuck her in and then I can pour some wine if you'd like, or-"

"Castle, shh," she murmurs, holding the door open for him to stride through. "Tomorrow's my day off. I'm not in a hurry, so take your time."

He shoots her an earnest smile over his shoulder, apparently thinking she would be in a rush to go, and carefully ascends the stairs with Alexis. She can hear his daughter's sleepy mumbling before they're halfway up, can hear him whispering soft and soothing words until they disappear down the upstairs hallway.

Beckett drifts into his kitchen while she waits, taking the time to root through his wine selection and plucking a bottle of red to place on the island. She's elevating on her toes, searching for glasses in the cabinet, when familiar palms span her waist, fingers claiming the bones of her hips.

"Impatient?" he mumbles at her back, reaching above her to snag the glasses her fingers just brushed against. But the gentle pressure of his chest at her back has her arching forward at the sudden bloom of pain, away from him to cradle her tender shoulder.

"Sorry," she hisses, rolling the bone with a wince before she rotates to face the startled expression he wears. "Minor bruise from work today, still a bit sensitive."

"A bruise," he repeats, as if he doesn't quite believe her, setting the wine glasses down and beginning to paw at her shoulder. "Let me see."

"No," she huffs, like that's going to stop him. He has her backed into a corner. Literally. She growls in relent, flicking his hand when it rises to her arm and rolling her eyes when he whines at her for it. "Stop, I have to take my button down off."

Castle lifts his hands in supplication. "Please, do not let me interfere with that."

"Shut up," she mutters, but he's grinning at her while she unbuttons the top half of her uniform, exposing the white v-neck she wears beneath. She turns her back to him, hooking her fingers in the neck of her shirt.

"I think it's mostly the back," Beckett murmurs, feeling his hand join hers in gingerly tugging her shirt sideways, just enough to reveal the throbbing flesh beneath.

Castle stops breathing.

"Perp shoved me into the brick of an alley before I could move, I clotheslined him a second later," she tries to explain, but his fingers have gone motionless at her back, his chest unmoving behind her. "It's fine, Rick. It's-"

"Kate," he murmurs, finally, his fingers cool points of contact on the rounded edge of her shoulder, a relief to the fire leaching from her bones to boil her skin. "This - this is brutal."

"Just a bruise," she grits out, biting her lip to refrain from crying out when he adds just a hint of pressure to the area.

"Shit," he mumbles, the presence of his warmth at her back disappearing before returning moments later, a sharp stab of cold bearing down on her shoulder.

Kate yelps and jerks away from him, cursing him under her breath as she spins around. "Richard Castle-"

"You have to ice it," he reasons, holding up the bag of corn and easing it back to her shoulder.

Beckett grips the edge of the counter and pierces her bottom lip under the sting of ice.

"I'm suddenly less a fan of your job," he sighs after a few seconds, allowing her the chance to adjust to the bitter chill encompassing her shoulder. Kate peels her eyes open to study his troubled expression, but her head still tilts in confusion.

"Because I have a bruised shoulder?" she murmurs, but Castle huffs, shakes his head with a pitiful quirk of his lips.

"When I think of a cop, I don't necessarily think of the danger right away. I just thought about you kicking ass and taking names," he admits with a smirk that proves contagious. "But what if… God, Kate, this may not be serious, but what if one day it is? What if you get hurt or end up in the hospital?"

"Hey." But he ignores her, his gaze trained on the bag of vegetables on her shoulder. "Rick-"

"I just got you back."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promises, her good arm rising at its own accord to curl her palm at his nape, squeezing gently. "No one's tomorrow is guaranteed, but I just got _you_ back. And I'm not ready to give you up either, Castle."

He drifts in closer, his body so large and towering over hers, engulfing. She inhales the scent of his aftershave as he rests his forehead to hers and closes his eyes. Innocent, intimate, too much, just right.

"This is bad, Beckett," he murmurs, winding his arm around her waist. Kate continues to gnaw at her bottom lip with her teeth, can't help it, and attaches her other hand to his hip.

"Bad?"

"You've been back in my life for two weeks and I think… I already know I can't lose you again."

The tips of his ears are tinged red with what she knows is a sign of embarrassment, but Kate bands her other arm around his neck. She holds him close and breaks the kiss of their foreheads to seal her cheek to his, turn her nose into his skin. She wounded him so deeply, so very thoroughly all those years ago, and he's right. It's only been two weeks and there's still five years of lost time lingering between them, but she's in serious danger of loving this man again.

Losing him again would crush her.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promises, feeling the bag of corn press harder against her shoulder that's gone numb.

But then Castle is drawing away from her, the seal of ice at her arm weakening. He shoots her a smile laced with apology, but his eyes are alight with pleasure, with much needed reassurance.

"Good, because what happened last time?" he murmurs, his empty hand rising to cup her jaw, his thumb grazing her stinging bottom lip. "Not again, Kate. You can walk away from me, but this time, I'll just follow."

Her fingers catch at his wrist, hanging onto the bone as she offers him a nod of affirmation, echoes his words with an agreement of her own. "Good."


	7. Chapter 7

The knock on his front door has Alexis leaping from the stool she's standing on, abandoning her post beside him in the kitchen and the ingredients for their casserole. He huffs, but watches his little girl run for the foyer with an exuberant smile on her face that only one person outside of their pod can evoke.

"Can I open it, Daddy?" she requests while he wipes his hands on a dishtowel.

He knows who's on the other side, Kate texted him a half hour ago, saying she would be here soon, but reminding Alexis to check with him before she flings the door open to a potential stranger is always a good idea.

"Go ahead, Pumpkin."

Alexis eases the door open and squeals at the sight of Kate Beckett on the other side. Castle shakes his head, as if his daughter didn't just see Kate a few days ago. But his heart still swells with the stubborn affection that just won't dull when his best friend kneels to accept his daughter's embrace.

"Hey, sweet pea," Kate chuckles, her chest expanding with a deep breath and her eyes squeezing closed for a moment. Some of his amusement quells as he watches her comb a hand through Alexis's lengthening red hair, cradling his daughter close and swallowing hard, her throat struggling with it "Did you have fun in pre-school today?"

"Oh yes," Alexis replies, releasing Beckett's neck so she can stand. She guides Kate over to the refrigerator, where the cotton ball snowman she made in class today hangs proudly on display. "Mrs. Ellis taught us how to make the snowmen and tomorrow, we're making polar bears because she said winter's her favorite even though it's spring now."

Kate praises his daughter's craftsmanship while he sneaks an arm around Beckett's waist from behind, dusts a kiss to her cheek that has her smile growing and her skin heating. It masks the tension he can feel riddling her frame.

It's been over three months since her wedding day, and she's been frequenting the loft on a regular basis, stopping by after work or spending her days off with him and Alexis. His daughter is hopelessly attached, has been from the start, and so is he. Again.

But it's too late to back out now, their routine has been set, become comfortable, and he doesn't want to give it up. He doesn't think Kate does either.

 _"Kate, you came!"_

 _It's been a month, just a single month, and his kid looks forward to seeing Kate almost as much as he does._

 _"Of course, I came," Beckett replies, cupping her palm to the back of Alexis's skull. "Couldn't go another day without seeing you, kiddo."_

 _He watches Alexis squeeze her tighter, releasing Kate with a bashful smile and a gentle touch of pink to the apples of her cheeks. She's such an affectionate little girl, so eager to love and wear her heart on her sleeve, but even at just three years old, his daughter is learning that not everyone can be trusted with your heart. Even those you wish to share it with the most._

 _His daughter is too careful with her heart at three years old and it breaks his._

 _Her bright blue eyes flicker back towards the kitchen. "Good, 'cause Daddy made pizza!"_

 _"You made pizza?" Kate questions, finally able to direct her attention to the man witnessing the exchange, studying her with too much filling his chest, things she isn't ready for that he blinks away before meeting her gaze._

 _"Yep, not sure if you've noticed or not, but I'm a pretty awesome chef," he boasts, stepping forward while Alexis skips to the table they set earlier, picking up where she left off with the three plates stacked on the edge._

 _"No, but I have a feeling I'm about to find out," she muses, canting forward at the touch of his hand to her waist, an innocent greeting that she accepts with probably a little too much fervor._

 _Curiosity sparks in his stomach, but he doesn't comment, simply grinning back at her in the foyer of his loft. "Good day at work?"_

 _His fingers tug at her uniform, the dress blues becoming all too frequent attire for him to see her in._

 _"Not bad," she murmurs, curving her palm at his shoulder as she leans in, drops an innocent kiss to the corner of his mouth. He can't help clutching at her hipbone for that, needing the anchor of her too sharp bone to ground him, but then she's moving past him, shrugging out of her coat. "Good day of writing?"_

 _"Not bad," he parrots, clearing his throat and taking her coat as it slides from her arms, transferring it into the closet. "Day's much better now."_

 _"Oh, don't be cheesy," she chuckles and Alexis visibly perks up at the sound of her approaching._

 _"Daddy makes pizza extra cheesy! Gooey cheese!"_

 _"See, I can't help it," Rick quips from her side, skirting past her to check the oven._

 _She rolls her eyes at him, but returns her attention to Alexis when the girl hooks two of her fingers around one of Kate's._

 _"Kate, can you watch a movie with us after dinner?" she asks, her eyes trained on the watch adorning Kate's wrist, her hand gently swinging their twined digits back and forth._

 _"Alexis, Kate might have to work tomorrow," Castle reminds her from the kitchen, his voice soft, a hopeful comfort to the inevitable letdown. But Beckett shakes her head._

 _"No, tomorrow's my day off, that's why I figured dinner on Tuesdays would work best," she explains, flexing her fingers to encompass Alexis's small hand. "So, I'd love to stay and watch a movie after dinner."_

 _Alexis's smile could win over the coldest of hearts, warm it with the genuine thrill that brightens her eyes, spreading jubilance through her face._

 _"This'll be the best dinner!" Alexis exclaims, releasing Kate to trot into the living room, falling to her knees in front of a wide selection of DVDs._

 _Castle is still watching when Kate looks back to him. There's too much tenderness in his gaze, he knows, maybe a hint of apprehension too._

 _"Is this okay?" she murmurs, joining him in the kitchen and chewing on her bottom lip._

 _He laces an arm around her shoulders once she's standing beside him and presses his cheek to her neck, tries not to hold on too tightly. He doesn't know to tell her just how much better than 'okay' it all is._

 _"Better than," he mumbles, his lips quirking against her jaw as he draws back. But Kate lingers at his side, mimics him and tucks her face to the cove of his neck._

 _It feels so easy, natural and hard to resist relishing in the warmth of his best friend's embrace that lasts too long. He knows it's probably too much, more than enough for now, for the pace they're trying to keep intact and the patience they both struggle to maintain. But he doesn't know how long they'll make it like this, toeing the line between friends and more when they've already done enough of that to last a lifetime._

 _"This could be a good habit," he says against her temple, his lips just a breath away from whispering along the shell of her ear._

 _Kate shifts, her fingers snagging in the waistband of his jeans as she pulls away, far enough to look up at him and maintain a few inches of much needed distance. "Mm, definitely one I could get on board with."_

 _"Tuesdays may become our new favorite day of the week," he chuckles, nodding to Alexis who seems to be in the middle of a serious internal debate between the Disney movies in her lap._

 _The corners of her lips curl and she takes a step back from Rick as the oven's timer dings, leaning against the island while he inspects the pizza inside._

 _"Mine too."_

"And we made lots of St. Patrick's things in March and bunnies in April too!" Alexis continues, carrying on a conversation with Kate that he's accidentally lost track of. "But I'm most excited for spring crafts because it's May now and Mrs. Ellis said spring brings flowers!"

"And showers," Castle adds, propping his chin on Kate's shoulder and sharing a wink with his daughter.

"Better than snow," Kate mutters, knocking her elbow into his side and urging him back. "I've been to enough freezing crime scenes this winter to last a lifetime."

Rick detaches himself from her back and returns to the chicken casserole ready to descend into the oven, ensuring the appliance is preheated before easing the glass dish onto the tray. He sets the timer.

"Yes, and that is why Alexis and I work vigorously to soothe your frostbite with warm meals."

"Which I am infinitely grateful for," Beckett returns, drifting back towards the front door, shrugging out of her coat and loosening the first few buttons of her uniform.

He really loves when Kate comes over straight from work, still in her uniform that always manages to portray a combination of utterly adorable and so unbearably hot on her. But she fumbles to work the rest of the way down her shirt today, her fingers shaking.

Huh.

"Daddy, can I finish my game while we wait for dinner?" Alexis asks, staring up at him with hopeful eyes that he can rarely refuse.

"Sure, Pumpkin. It won't be long, though."

"That's fine! I just have to rescue the dragon from the angry villagers in my room," his daughter proclaims, trotting for the stairs, calling up for Elliot the imaginary dragon to know that she's on her way to rescue him.

"Her imagination is almost as vivid as yours," Kate chuckles when he joins her on her walk through the living room, into his office where she locks away her badge and gun in his safe. "Mind if I borrow your clothes?"

Another habit that's formed, one that makes waiting for more than friendship extremely difficult. It started with him lending her a shirt so she didn't have to sit at the dinner table in her work clothes, a pair of sweatpants for her to slip into while they cuddled with Alexis during a movie on the couch. His goal was only to ensure that she's comfortable, but the more often Kate stays over, the more of his clothes she begins to inhabit.

And Kate Beckett drowning in his shirts, his sweatpants, is almost as devastating of a sight to view as her in her uniform.

 _"Did you want something more comfortable to lounge around in?" Castle asks after dinner, flicking his eyes to her uniform. She narrows hers back at him and - ah, probably taking the question as a blatant attempt to get her out of her clothes._

 _But no, he's just trying to get her into his._

 _"I have sweatshirts, pants?" he adds, watching the reprimand in her gaze immediately dissipate. Yeah, that's right, he's a gentleman._

 _"Pants would be great if you have any that would fit," she murmurs, drifting after him through his office, into a room she has yet to spend any time in._

 _"Preferences, Officer?" he inquires, tugging open a drawer and holding up two pairs of sweatpants. "They'll be a bit long, but I'm sure if you roll up the waist, it'll be fine."_

 _"Not my first time wearing your clothes, Castle," she teases, sauntering up to snag the grey pair of pants from his fingers._

 _It wasn't the first time back then either, his clothes often donated to the cause of Kate Beckett seeking something comfortable to wear, but he can still recall when she was sixteen and showed up on his doorstep while his mother was away for a show, soaked to the bone from the storm outside. Rick let her into their apartment before her parents could learn that she didn't actually spend the night at Maddie's, offering her his shower, his clothes, even his bed, so eagerly volunteering to take the couch or the floor._

 _She was heartbroken over Brent Edwards, betrayed by the prettiest girl in a school that he just graduated from. But even then he loved the girl who let him stroke the damp strands of hair back from her face and told her she was too good for an idiotic football jock. She just wasn't willing to see it herself at the time._

 _"Do not turn the innocent lending of my clothes into something sexy, Beckett. I was only trying to be a gentleman back then."_

 _"Opposed to now?" she quips, arching her eyebrow in challenge, but aside from the suggestive flicker of his gaze to her mouth, he doesn't take the bait._

 _One of them has to have some restraint here._

 _"I'll be setting up the movie with Alexis," he murmurs with a narrowed gaze of his own that makes her smirk._

 _Castle leaves her alone in his bedroom, but it's only a couple of minutes before she's emerging in his pants with his favorite old t-shirt skirting the tops of her thighs._

 _He gapes at her as she takes a seat next to Alexis, his daughter already leaning into Kate's side without question, propping her small feet in her father's lap._

 _"Daddy, press play."_

 _Rick fumbles with the remote, but Kate keeps her eyes ahead, trained on the projector screen he's set up, suppressing her amusement. But then Castle reaches across the top of the couch without disturbing Alexis, hooks his finger in the slouching collar of his shirt at her shoulder._

 _She tilts her head in inquiry, pretends she can't read the surprise that is both wary and delighted in his gaze. "This okay?"_

 _Castle's thumb strokes along the side of her throat, glancing across the leap of her pulse, before drawing his hand back to drop them both atop Alexis's knees._

 _"Better than."_

He repeats the gesture now, stroking his thumb to the side of her throat, swiping away a stain of what looks like soot. Must have been an interesting crime scene for her to be carrying ash around on her skin.

"You're always welcome to whatever you want from my wardrobe, Beckett," Castle murmurs, watching her force a quirk of her lips. "And if you also want to wash away the day, you have my shower at your service too."

Something dark shudders through her gaze.

"That's probably not a bad idea," she concedes, but her jaw is set with resolve that he doesn't understand.

"Kate," he calls, pressing down at her pulse, earning the flick of her eyes back to him. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine," she assures him, blinking once before straining through another smile. His stomach rolls with unease. "Just a long day at work, Rick. That's all."

He sighs, knowing there has to be more to the story, something cracking behind her thin smile and dark eyes, but he won't push her.

"I know you're not telling the whole truth here," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "But it's okay. Just talk to me about it when you feel like you can."

He squeezes the back of her neck before he lets her go, offering her a soft smile of his own. Just to ensure her that he's not mad, not disappointed, only worried about her, before he turns for the kitchen.

"Wait."

Her slim fingers curl at his elbow, snagging in the fabric of his sweater. He arches an eyebrow while he pivots back around, allowing his body to sway back towards her. Her lips part, as if the words are there, but just won't come out.

She's looking at him with so much devastation, he just doesn't understand.

"Kate-"

"I don't need a heart to heart right now, Rick," she whispers, taking a step forward, too close, and rising on the tips of her toes.

Kisses are sworn off, sort of. He's initiated the routine of greeting her with friendly pecks to her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth, a habit she often returned. Well, whenever his baby bird doesn't beat him to the door.

Her kiss isn't a peck this time.

Kate's palms cradle his face, her mouth meeting his the same time the wave of her body does, the crash perfect but gentle, soft and warm and dragging him under.

"Kate," he croaks, all coherent thoughts reduced to nothing more than the exhale of her name. He assumes it'll snap her out of this, make her do the right thing so he doesn't have to, save them both before they drown.

Tension climbs his spine like a tsunami when she doesn't pull away, tentatively curving her body to his instead, pressing another kiss to his bottom lip, and oh, he warned her about this-

"What's wrong?" he gets out, his hands spanning the cage of her ribs, steadying her shaking frame. Her entire body is trembling. This isn't right, not how she's allowed to do this. "What happened?"

"Didn't want to waste any more time," she husks, her lips brushing his as she speaks, sending a lethal mixture of heat and electricity through every inch of his skin. "I know we're going slow, Rick, but just - I needed to-"

Their first kiss on her wedding day was hardly a kiss at all - soft and tender, new and brief, nothing more than the pleasant brush of her mouth that he now receives something close to on a regular basis, but this… the rise of her body into his, the solid press of her mouth and the low moan in her throat, is already burning him alive.

"Kate," he gets out, all his vocabulary has been reduced to. He clutches at her waist, forcing her body to still, but her mouth fails to cease from exploration. Her lips pepper along his jaw, the bone of his cheek, dusting along the corner of his eye. "Beckett, if you don't stop-"

"Sorry," she chokes out, her voice ragged from far more than what they're currently doing in his bedroom doorway, wet and raw from the clogging of tears in her throat. Rick eases back to find them filling her eyes.

He cups her crumbling face in his hands, grazing his thumb along the delicate skin beneath her eye before the moisture can stain her cheeks. "Just tell me what happened."

Beckett purses her lips and he allows her to duck out of his hold, hide her face in his neck and catch her breath for a moment, breathe past whatever sudden tragedy has stolen it.

"There was a bomb," she rasps against his throat and Rick instantly stiffens, grips her harder than he means to. Kate trails her hands down his back, soothes him with the gentle reminder of her presence. He isn't able to watch the news quite as often anymore, especially not with Alexis in the house, but now he fears he may have to begin keeping better track of what's happening in their city. "I wasn't on the scene when it happened, we were called afterwards and we had to - we helped a lot of the detectives identify the victims."

Castle submerges one of his hands in her hair, combs through the tangled locks and circles his fingers at her scalp. She could have been on the scene, she could have been one of those victims, and how would he have ever learned of it? She's his family, always has been, but he has no claim to her, no way of being notified.

He needs to talk to her about this later, once her heart has ceased its rioting, once her breathing has calmed.

"Most of our victims, they die for a reason. There's a logic behind it, it makes some kind of sense, but these people… they left behind families, loved ones, and that - how do you recover from a loss like that? One that makes no sense, has no closure?" She fists her hands in the sides of his button down. "How can you lose someone so suddenly and ever be okay again? How can you live with the regret of things you left undone? After I lost Mom like that… I could never do it again, if you or Alexis-"

"Stop," he murmurs, interrupting the thought before it can even come to fruition.

Rick hugs her tighter, dusts a kiss to the shell of her ear and puts his own panic on hold.

"I'm right here, Kate. Right here with you," he promises against her temple. "Alexis is upstairs, fighting to free a mystical dragon named Elliot, and I'm pretty sure the woman I'm in love with has an idea of how much I love her."

Kate releases a breath against the hollow of his throat. "I think she does too."

"Yeah?"

She lifts her head from the safety of her hiding spot in the cove of his neck, meets his gaze with a conflicting battle of fear and bravery raging in her eyes, the flecks of gold shining brighter, illuminating like victory as courage conquers.

"All of those people today," she starts again, a little steadier this time. "They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their futures, all of their plans, everything was just gone in a flash for them, and it made me think about all of the things in my own life that I don't want to put off anymore."

Rick nods, his heart aching for the loss of innocent lives. "Nobody's tomorrows are guaranteed."

"Exactly," she whispers, causing the ache in his chest to dull beneath the acceleration the sudden hope blooming in her eyes evokes. "I want to start living for today, Rick, I just want-"

The click of tumblers shifting into place from the front door steals her attention, his mother's call of greeting causing them both to sigh. But Castle catches her hands before she can retreat to his bedroom.

"Kate," he murmurs as they listen to Alexis's descent from her bedroom, trotting down the stairs and greeting her grandmother.

"We'll talk more later," she promises, swaying forward once more to brush a parting kiss to his lips. "There's a lot left to discuss. Maybe... maybe tonight, after Alexis goes to bed?"

"Good plan," he nods. "But what you were saying before... can I at least have the end of that sentence?"

Kate hesitates for only a moment before whispering the words into the skin of his cheek.

"All I could think about today was you, Castle." She sighs, shaking her head like she's so tired of it all, as tired as he is of trying to ignore the constant hum of electricity and pulse of need between them. "I just want you."


	8. Chapter 8

Castle exits his office with his heart galloping. Kate quickly dropped his hands after the confession she breathed into his cheek, pecking a kiss to the spot for good measure before retreating to his bedroom to change.

He finds his mother in the kitchen once he emerges, pouring herself a glass of wine and glancing up to him with a smile.

"Ah, there you are, darling! Got caught up with the writing?" Martha asks.

"Daddy wasn't writing. Kate's here," Alexis chimes in, gaining him an arched eyebrow from his mother. "She was helping Daddy set the table while I saved Elliot!"

"And where is Katherine now?" his mother inquires, dividing her knowing gaze between him and Alexis.

"She's-"

"Right here, Martha," Kate cuts in, walking towards them with a tired smile and the drape of his clothes engulfing her body.

His mother has seen Kate don his clothing before, but she still manages to smirk at them both each and every time she takes notice of Rick's shirt on Kate's back.

"Hey there, kiddo. Looking beautiful as ever," Martha greets, sincerity rivaling her amusement as she steps forward to embrace Kate in a one armed hug. "Though, you could still use the rest, you know."

Kate rolls her eyes and eases around his mother to help Alexis with the plates she's trying to reach on the counter, already listening to his daughter's climactic tale of heroism where imaginary dragons are concerned.

"She's good with her," Martha comments while Castle brushes past to open the oven door. "And if I'm not mistaken, Alexis often takes far longer to come around to new adults. Especially women."

"Well, she felt like she knew Kate to an extent," he reasons, retrieving the casserole dish from the scorch of the oven and placing it atop the stove. "I told Alexis about her long before they met. Besides, she's getting older, coming out of her shell more often."

"Mm, perhaps," Martha hums, handing him the proper knife to begin divvying up their dinner into decent servings. "Have you already informed Katherine about Meredith and the… hurt she has instilled within our girl?"

"Kate's nothing like Meredith," Castle sighs. "Even if she decided to cut off all communication with me again, I know she wouldn't do that to Alexis. I'm pretty sure she's becoming just as attached."

"And there is no risk of her doing that again, is there?" Martha asks in a low tone, narrowing her gaze on her son. The natural urge to defend Kate arises in his chest, but there isn't any malice in his mother's glittering eyes, only concern. She knows all too well what Kate's initial departure from his life did to him, how wounded he was, (still is?), and while he's certain his mother likes Kate, he knows and understands how she cares more about the state of his heart. At risk once again.

If it were his child in his current predicament... he'd be having an anxiety attack. Hell, if it were anyone else he was toeing this line with, risking his heart for, he would agree with his mother's concern, he would have ended it before it began.

But it isn't someone else; it's Kate Beckett and he's already tried turning off his feelings for her.

The way he feels about her... it just doesn't work like a switch.

"No," Castle says with confidence, holding his mother's gaze, allowing her to see the certainty he feels. "We were talking before you got here and there's still more for us to discuss, but she… I don't think she has any intentions of disappearing on me again."

The table is set, dinner ready, but the words have his ever-moving mother going still. She studies him for a moment, eyes roving his features and her red lips pursed. She sighs and steps forward, pressing that tight-lipped smile to his cheek.

Not necessarily convinced, but not arguing either. A temporary truce.

"In that case, I'm rooting for you both, kiddo."

* * *

After dinner, his mother is waltzing out of the loft with a slightly wider smile for him, for Kate. Martha bids her usual, dramatic farewells before making her departure, ensuring that he catches her encouraging wink through the crack of the front door before she can disappear.

Rick locks the door behind her, her small spike of enthusiasm contagious.

"Kate, why you wear a ring on your necklace?" he hears Alexis ask from the living room, the smile that his mother caused to spread along his lips slipping away.

Castle quickly backtracks to the room where his daughter is curled into Kate's side, tucked in against her on the armchair.

Alexis has been clinging to Kate all evening, sitting beside her throughout dinner and trailing on her heels on the way to the lounge area afterwards. It convinces him that his daughter noticed the extra weight balancing on his best friend's shoulders, the exhaustion staining the thin skin beneath her eyes and the lack of her smiles throughout their meal. Alexis has always been a comfort to him in times of sorrow, always crawling onto his lap or reassuring him with her small-armed embraces any time she sensed his sadness; she seems to be granting Kate the same kindness.

But at the mention of the engagement ring he knows the significance of around Beckett's neck, he fears any hopes of cheering Kate up may have just shattered.

"Remember how your daddy told you I lost my mom a few years ago?" Kate replies softly. Nothing more than the curve of her shoulder, the drape of her hair down her back, is available to him, but her voice is even, steady, and he stays back.

"Yeah, he said after your mommy died, it hurt so bad you had to stop being friends," Alexis nods along innocently.

He may not be able to see her face, but he can hear the shuddering breath Kate has to suck in and he begins to step forward again.

"That's right," she answers, her voice unwavering. He stills, his progress towards the living room becoming a stop and go guessing game. "This was her ring," Kate continues, her arm shifting to assumedly lift the ring from its resting place atop her chest, allowing Alexis a clear view. "When my dad… after he died too, he left it to me, and when I wear it, it almost feels like I have a piece of her still with me."

Alexis gingerly extends a single finger out to graze the gold band, the shimmering dark gemstone set in the middle. She's still too young to fully understand the depth of the meaning that the ring holds for Kate, but she's perceptive enough to treat the jewelry like the precious treasure it is to the woman she's snuggled against.

"You miss your mommy," Alexis murmurs, not a question. He watches Kate nod, propping her chin atop his daughter's head.

"All the time." Her eyes flutter open once Rick has inched closer, close enough for her to catch a glimpse of him through her peripheral vision at least. The corner of her mouth curls upwards, but her eyes glitter. "But you know what helps?"

Alexis straightens to meet Kate's eyes, sky blue curiosity gleaming in hers.

"When my mom and dad died, I felt - my heart felt pretty empty," Kate informs her, her lips quirking at the wide-eyed horror that consumes Alexis's gaze for a split second. "But then your dad showed up at my wedding and I met you and started hanging out with you guys-"

"And now your heart's not so empty an'more?" Alexis concludes, her smile brilliant. Kate chuckles, smoothing back the fringe of his daughter's bangs. "Right?"

"Right." She meets his eyes as Alexis sinks back into her side, gratitude flickering through her gaze and tugging at the corners of her mouth. They still need to talk, but he thinks he just heard all he needs to know. "Not so much anymore."

* * *

Kate gives Alexis a hug goodnight and waits until Rick disappears with his daughter up the stairs to drift from the living room to his office, into the familiar yet foreign territory of his bedroom.

Never has she taken the time to linger here, often accepting the opportunity to borrow his clothing for the sake of comfort and changing quickly without allowing herself too long to study her surroundings. But tonight, her uniform lies draped over the armchair propped next to the walls of bookshelves, left there purposely instead of being tucked into its usual spot within the coat closet shelf so she can grab it on her way home. Tonight, she doesn't plan to leave so soon.

Beckett releases the unintentionally held breath from her chest and starts forward, towards his bed, trailing the tips of her fingers along the soft edge of the comforter. Deep browns, sunset oranges, dashes of white – very him. The entire room is well suited to his tastes, masculine and swathed in gentle earth tones, bathed in gold lighting with tasteful canvas paintings decorating the walls.

Still him. Not the overdone bachelor pad she secretly feared to encounter in the beginning.

"Kate?" She turns at the sound of his voice in the doorway, finds him eyeing her with a curious smile gracing his lips. "If you wanted more time in my bedroom, all you had to do was ask."

His eyebrows waggle at her and Kate tosses the nearest throw pillow from his bed at him. Rick catches it with a chuckle as he approaches, the question still in his gaze, but she isn't yet sure how to answer, where to begin or how to explain.

"I still remember my time in your old bedroom," she teases, deflecting, but only for a little while longer.

Whether he reads into what she's doing or not, Castle plays along. "You make that sound so dirty."

Kate laughs and eases down onto the right side of the mattress, his side she assumes - closest to the nightstand littered with pens and a notebook. He plops down beside her, purposely bumping into her shoulder and cementing the grin onto her lips.

"You were the only girl my mother ever allowed into my bedroom unsupervised," Rick recalls, smirking at the memory.

"How many girls were you trying to sneak into your bedroom?"

"Jealous, Beckett?" He smirks at her, but oh, he has no idea. Her lack of response certainly gives him one, though. Castle's eyes widen, glee sparkling through the pools of cerulean like skipping stones as his lips part in surprise. "No way, when did I ever make you jealous?"

Kate scoffs and pulls her feet up on the bed, folding her legs beneath her and propping her elbows atop her knees.

"Kyra," she admits on a mutter, her chest flaring with the retired envy that swarmed her like a plague the first time he introduced her to the picture perfect girl he dated throughout his first year of college.

Kate was in high school at the time, working her ass off to graduate a semester early. She can still remember the day he introduced her to Kyra, remembers climbing up the stairs to the second floor to his apartment, prepared to study for her physics test and help him write an essay for his chemistry course. She can still remember him opening the door, beaming at someone at his side who wasn't her.

She didn't like it, not at all.

They always remained friends. Of course, there were a few _almost_ moments – hugs that lasted a little too long, instances where her heart beat too hard for him, yearning for more than friendship but too afraid to take the risk of ruining what they had. A few almost kisses that she wishes she could return to, remedy with just a split second of courage, with the press of her mouth to his.

They always remained friends, but that didn't mean watching him be with another girl didn't poke holes in her heart every time.

"What? I thought you two got along well," Castle protests, but Beckett rolls her eyes.

"She was nice, Rick. She was… she could have been really good for you and it's - maybe it's childish, but it could have been serious between you two and that bothered me."

"Why?" She's staring at her fingers tangling in her lap, knotting nervously, but she can feel Rick shifting closer to her, the heat of his body fusing through hers when his chest brushes her shoulder. "Why did that bother you, Kate?"

Beckett forces down a swallow, this conversation suddenly far too serious, but it's too late to back out now, to make excuses. She thinks of all those moments where the opportunity to taste his mouth, to feel the pressure of his lips on hers, was once in reach. How she let them slip away and pass her by.

No more of that.

Kate inhales sharply through her nose, ignores the panic flushing out the faded jealousy, and lifts her eyes up to meet his.

"Because you were mine," she murmurs, feeling more than hearing his breath hitch, his chest seizing momentarily against the edge of her shoulder. She takes advantage of his rare silence, his stillness. The tip of her nose grazes his when she tilts forward, angles her head upwards so that their lips touch with nothing more than a simple shift towards him. She releases a purposeful breath, smirks as his entire body cants towards hers. "Still are, I hope."

Castle closes the distance for her. The seal of his mouth steals her breath, the cradle of his palm at her jaw an anchor that tethers her, draws her into him. His fingers splay to caress her ear, the tender skin at the base of her skull, traveling along her neck. Kate hums at the slick of his tongue to the seam of her mouth, the reverent press of his kiss to her lips, tentative but strong and teasing a low moan from deep within her chest.

Her body sizzles with need, adamant for the weight and warmth of his flesh on hers. She settles for dragging him closer as she eases backwards, unfurling her legs from beneath her to face him properly.

To say she's dreamt of this moment sounds so horribly cheesy, but oh, she _has_. She's imagined the heat of his mouth and the stroke of his tongue far too many times to admit, has yearned for the chance to learn what it would feel like to kiss the man she's been best friends with for practically half of her entire life.

It isn't until her head is hitting a pillow and Castle's body is on top of her that she attempts to calm the rapid pound of her heart, the frenzied rhythm of her breathing, the ardent work of his mouth.

"Rick," she gasps, twining an arm around his neck to fist a hand in his hair, gently tugging to gain his attention. "We have to stop."

"Why?" he mumbles, nipping at the corner of her mouth, teasing her bottom lip between his teeth, and – and why did they have to stop again?

Kate arcs beneath him, hooking a leg at his hip and slipping a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel more of him. To learn the sculpted path of his muscles, the rigid artwork of his bones, to savor the burn of his flesh scalding her palms, shifting and contracting beneath the whorls of her fingertips.

"Because," she tries, but _fuck_ , he's kissing her neck, laving his tongue over the throb of her pulse, that sensitive spot behind her ear. And she may have wanted to take things slow, do a little more wading in the shallow end in this new territory of their relationship before completely diving in, but his mouth, his hands, are too good to deny.

Just as she's about to give in, offer her body without an ounce of resistance, Castle pauses with his chest heaving above hers, the heat of his breath searing the skin beneath her jaw.

"Because we're going too fast?" he supplies. Beckett has to blink, struggle to catch up with the conversation he's continued, before nodding her reluctant agreement. "And we've both waited so long for this, that there's no need to rush."

"You're - you're right," she exhales, the air rushing out of her lungs as her chest deflates beneath his. Castle copies her, steadying the rhythm of his heart with a few deep breaths while he eases to rest alongside her, avoiding aligning the puzzle pieces of their bodies along the way.

She turns into him, buries her face in his chest for just a moment, a stupid smile flickering on her lips at the absurdity of it all.

She just made out with her best friend.

"Kate," he laughs at her, his fingers skimming her grinning cheek. "Are you _blushing_?"

"No," she scoffs, drawing back to glare at him, but Castle is beaming, childlike happiness glistening bright and blue in his eyes. Is it really any surprise she fell in love with him all over again? "You just got me worked up."

"Oh, believe me," Rick chuckles, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rolling onto his back, taking her with him. "I could feel how worked up you were."

"Shut up," she grumbles, craning forward to scrape her teeth at his jaw.

Rick's hand tightens around the bone of her shoulder. "No need to be embarrassed, Beckett. Your desire for me has been building for years, repressed for so long now, it's no surprise that once given the opportunity, you completely lose control of yourself-"

His sentence comes to a sputtering stop when she smudges her mouth to his once more, smirking against his lips at his grunt of disapproval.

"I am in complete control," she informs him, shrugging his arm from her shoulders and using her knee for leverage to slide over his body, her legs bracketing his thighs in a lazy straddle.

"K-Kate." He clears his throat, his hands rising to hover at her sides, uncertain and fluttering like startled wings over her the bones of her hips. "Slow, remember?"

Kate reaches back to steady his hands at her waist, fixing his palms to drape along the juts of her hip bones before splaying hers over his chest, reassuring him with a gentle smile as she leans in.

"I remember and I have no intentions of crossing that line tonight," she murmurs, dusting her lips over the worried crease between his brows until his skin goes smooth. They're supposed to be talking, supposed to be discussing that forbidden moment in his bedroom doorway before dinner. But she doesn't want to talk, doesn't want to remember the bombing and all of its horror, doesn't want to discuss how much she wants to love him even though it scares her, how damaged she is and afraid of damaging him too. Damaging him even more.

It all needs to be addressed before they go any further, before she can manage to mangle up his heart again, but maybe not tonight. Not right now. "But we can still fool around."

* * *

Castle blinks awake in the middle of the night, the lamp beside his bed still shining, the sky outside his bedroom windows still dark. He squints past the beam of the low light to read his alarm clock, frowning at the 2:30 a.m. timestamp. It's been so long since he's fallen asleep without remembering to turn out the lights. But when he stretches to click off the switch, bathe the room in darkness, he's stopped short by warm weight anchoring his left side to the mattress.

 _Kate_.

Rick swings his gaze down to her, her body draped over his ribs, one leg possessively curled over his thigh (because he's _hers_ and he isn't going to let her forget that little confession anytime soon), and her arm slung across his abdomen. They fell asleep during one of the interludes to their lengthy makeout session in his bed, where she had _straddled_ him, glided her hot hands beneath his t-shirt, suckled on his skin and worshipped at his mouth. He would have convinced himself it was all a dream, a wonderfully vivid dream, if the proof of it all wasn't laid out alongside him, if his body wasn't still singing with the memory of her touch.

Castle extends his arm again, careful not to wake her as his fingers close around the lamp switch, flicking it off. Kate startles against him at the distinct click, lifting her head from the pillow she's been sharing with him and glancing around the room with bleary eyes.

"Hey," he whispers, awakening the hand that fell asleep atop her spine, claiming her attention with the rub of his palm up her vertebrae. "You're okay. Fell asleep in my room."

"Oh," she murmurs, still not quite awake and lowering her head back to the pillow. Her hand rises clumsily to his neck. Her fingers press firm against his pulse. "You 'kay?"

"Yeah, love. Fine," he promises, covering the hand at his throat and turning his head to kiss her palm.

She hums, curls her fingers to brush at his lips. "S'good."

He expects her to drop back into sleep, but Kate turns away from him, settling on her opposite side and closing her fingers around the arm that came with her, holding his hand to her sternum. Castle shifts to press his chest against her back, nudging his knee to fit between hers, and using the arm around her stomach to pull her in deeper against him.

"Mm, night, Rick," she yawns, her body going loose, sinking back into the mattress, back into him.

Castle takes his time following her into slumber, reveling in the feel of her so close, limbs entwined with his and her back expanding with each even breath against his chest.

They shared a bed once before this – well, sort of. When they were still young and ultimately untouched by the cruelties of the world, by men with knives in alleys, but not free of a terrifying shadow in the woods that became the star of his nightmares.

He was twelve and staying in the Beckett apartment overnight for the first time while his mother was out of town for an audition that she just couldn't pass up; Jim and Johanna made a bed for him on the couch in their tasteful living room. Nightmares from the woods still haunted his subconscious, dulling over the last two years since it happened, willing him to believe it truly was nothing more than a bad dream, but the visions were still alive and lurking in the darkest corners of his mind. Just waiting for the opportunity to strike again.

Apparently, he managed to wake Kate when they did, his noises of distress encouraging the youngest Beckett to sneak out of her room and down the hall in the middle of the night. She must have tiptoed into the living room, crouched beside the couch, and shook him awake.

"Rick, hey Rick, I think you're having a bad dream," his ten year old neighbor whispered. His eyes flew open to find her kneeling over him, the braid of her hair slipping over her shoulder to dust along his cheek. Rick scrubbed at his eyes to wipe away any threats of unwelcome tears, because he couldn't cry. Especially not in front of a girl. He willed the gallop of his heart to gentle while Kate stared down at him, so much concern, so much empathy for someone so young. "Do you want to talk about it? It always helps when I talk to my mom whenever I have one."

"You have bad dreams too?" he whispered back, terrified of waking her parents and getting them both into trouble on a school night.

Kate nudged him to the side, made room for herself on the spacious sofa, and rested her head next to his on one of the two pillows from her parents' bedroom. At twelve years old, after a year of knowing her, it was the most natural thing in the world for his best friend to crawl in beside him, to innocently share his makeshift bed for the night. It was all so innocent back then, so easy.

"Sometimes," she admitted, her thin shoulder bumping his with her shrug. "What'd you dream about?"

He hesitated, unsure if sharing his deepest secret with her was the best idea, but Katie was his closest friend, the most important person in his life second to his mother, and he trusted her more than anyone else. So he whispered the story of Hollander's Woods to her in the city-lit darkness of her living room, watching her green eyes go wide and her face fall white.

"I don't know if it's a dream or not," he confessed. "But I - I just know I don't want it to be real."

"It's okay, Rick," she murmured, her small hand claiming his atop the nest of throw blankets her parents offered him and giving it the most reassuring squeeze her slim fingers could offer. "Dream or not, it'll be okay."

He drifted back to sleep with his best friend's hand clutching his, the promise to keep his story a secret stumbling past her lips, a reminder that he was safe here with her and her parents wrapping him in the assurance he needed to find rest.

Rick presses his forehead to the back of her neck and closes his eyes. This is different, so vastly different from when they were kids, but that same form of elusive peace has returned and remains with Kate Beckett sleeping at his side.


	9. Chapter 9

"I really wish we would have decided to move past friendship _way_ before I had to leave for a two week book tour," he pouts, standing beside her in the airport's lobby, his ticket in hand, luggage already checked.

Kate sighs in agreement. It's been a mere week since the bombing case, since she kissed him in his office, since she spent the night curled up with him in his bed. Between the hectic lifestyle of her job and his impending book tour, they've hardly had the time to explore, to enjoy, this newfound territory of their relationship, and she definitely shares his disappointment.

"It'll fly by," she tries to assure him, herself, squeezing his arm. "And we'll still talk every night. Won't be too different than how it is now, Rick."

"I can't do this, though," he mumbles, cupping her cheek in one of his palms. She's fallen in love solely with his hands in the last few days, the broad width of his palm, the thick lengths of his fingers, the way her cheek fits so well in the cradle of his hand. His mother and daughter are in the bathroom and he's crowded her into a secluded corner of the airport lobby, using the fleeting sense of privacy to lean in and brush his lips over hers. "I'll really miss doing this."

Kate hums and rises into his kiss, strokes her tongue along the seam of his lips and tends to the surface of his mouth, gives him a last kiss to think about for the next two weeks.

"Me too," she breathes, dropping back to the soles of her shoes and stopping his mouth from chasing hers with a finger to his lips. "Alexis and your mom are right around the corner."

Castle sighs and catches her palm, kissing her fingertips before lowering their hands to rest between them.

"Ready to go, kiddo?" Martha calls a few seconds later, Alexis at her side. His daughter's head is hanging, her lips in a frown.

"Just about," Rick replies, but he crouches to his knees, holds out his arms for Alexis to huddle into. "I promise these next two weeks will pass super fast, Pumpkin. It's just two weeks, fourteen days."

"But I'll miss you," Kate can hear Alexis whisper.

"And I'll miss you, but while I'm out selling my stories, I want you to make some of your own to tell me once I get back, okay?" he encourages, splaying his hands across Alexis's slim sides. "Kate told me she has a lot of fun stuff planned for you this week."

Alexis lifts reluctant eyes up to Kate, tentative hope lightening some of the sorrow in her gaze. "You do?"

"Oh yeah," Kate answers, stepping in closer, her hip against Castle's shoulder. "Your Gram and I are going to keep you so busy these next two weeks, you'll have a hundred fun stories to tell your dad by the time he gets back."

A small smile stretches across Alexis's lips. "A hundred?"

"See? You'll be so busy having fun with these two, you may not even notice I'm gone." Rick clasps both of her hands in his and looks into his daughter's eyes, serious and silly at the same time. "Try not to forget about me, Pumpkin."

Alexis giggles, shaking her head in response.

"No, Daddy, could never forget you."

Kate takes a step back, allows Rick a moment alone with his daughter, leaning against the wall next to Martha instead.

"As he said, darling," his mother adds softly. "These next two weeks will pass in no time at all."

Kate arches her brow and cuts her gaze to his mother, the matriarch watching her with knowledge simmering in her eyes, and - dammit, did his mother catch them on one of the few nights she stayed over this week?

"I'm older, but I'm not dense, kiddo. Honestly," Martha scoffs, playfully knocking the back of her hand into Kate's arm. "I don't have to be around 24/7 to know what you and my boy are up to these days."

"What makes you think we're up to anything out of the ordinary?" Kate challenges the older woman, the woman who was once like a second mother to her, who's starting to feel like one all over again. Martha sighs, hooks her arm through Kate's, and tugs.

"Katherine Beckett, I have known you since you were nine years old and I certainly know my son. You have _finally_ stopped looking at each other with that tragic gleam of longing you've both worn since you were teenagers."

Beckett swallows, but her cheeks are burning, blushing furiously. The heat only worsens when Castle ascends from his knees with Alexis on his hip and his gaze lands on the two of them.

"Mother," he warns, but Martha simply shrugs, pats Kate's forearm before releasing her.

"You should probably go through security now if you intend to make your flight, Richard," his mother singsongs, straightening the lapels of her emerald colored jacket and stepping forward to plant a kiss on her son's cheek.

Castle narrows his eyes on her once she pulls away, but Alexis is quickly reclaiming his attention, her arms around his neck and her face buried against his jaw.

"I love you, Daddy."

Kate watches Rick close his eyes, hug his daughter back tightly, and press his lips to her temple. "Love you too, Pumpkin. I'll call as soon as I land, promise."

Castle bends to place Alexis back on her feet but Martha opens her arms, offering his daughter the comfort of an embrace to rest in while they see her father off. Kate sighs as Alexis hugs her grandmother's neck, trying valiantly not to frown against her shoulder.

"We'll wait for you in the car, darling," Martha tells her, starting towards JFK's exit with Alexis staring back at her dad, waving to him with damp lashes and a heavy pout before she disappears outside.

"I hate leaving her," he gets out, clearing his throat when the words rasp along his throat.

"She knows you'll be back," Kate murmurs, biting her lip to restrain her own need for reassurance. _Promise you'll come back?_

"My mother knows about us, doesn't she?" he huffs, the ache in his eyes has reluctantly receding. Beckett laughs, nodding her head as Castle's palms span her waist, drawing her in closer. "We were never good at hiding stuff from her."

"Neither of them," Kate chuckles, looping her arms around his neck in this quiet corner of the airport and swaying into the cove of his body. "Our mothers always busted us before we could get away with anything substantial."

"We always fooled your dad, though," he points out with a grin.

Kate bites her lip, surprised to find herself smiling, reminiscing with joy blossoming in the pit of her stomach and blooming through her insides. Normally, the mention of her parents has her rotting with grief, but Rick… he reminds her of the not so horrible parts from her old life, the fond memories she almost forgot about, lost beneath the all consuming weight of the sorrowful ones.

She drifts in to nudge her nose to his cheek, a silent moment of gratitude she doubts he could understand without explanation. But when he squeezes her hip without another word, she wonders if he does anyway.

"He'd be thrilled about this," she muses, her lips grazing the corner of his mouth, the upturned edge of his smile. "You were the only boy he ever liked."

"I was the only boy stupid enough not to pursue you through high school."

She chuckles, teasing her matching grin along his lips and humming when he kisses her back, chest sealing against hers and hips pressing flush.

"Like you could've handled Rebel Becks," she mumbles, nipping at his bottom lip before she soothes it with the touch of her tongue.

"I handled you just fine," he reminds her, easing back just far enough to drop his forehead against hers. "Platonically."

"Uh huh."

"Didn't matter what phase you went through, Beckett. I wasn't going anywhere."

She tilts her head to reach his mouth just once more, hungry and a little desperate. It still stings that she was the one to change that sense of certainty five years ago, that he was the one leaving now, and that she didn't want him to go.

She isn't being needy, never. They've just spent enough time apart, that's all.

Castle gentles her with his palms at her cheeks, stroking the slashes of bone, soothing her with the slow sweep of his tongue. Kate sighs, releases him with a final caress of her lips.

"Just come home safe, okay?" she mumbles, mustering a smile for him as she withdraws, glancing towards the door where she knows his mother and daughter wait for her in a town car that's probably on the verge of circling the airport for her.

"You too," he says with a pointed look that she rolls her eyes in response to. "And look out for Alexis, especially while she's under my mother's care."

"Castle," she huffs, stepping away from him, the space between them growing like the chasm forming in her chest. Jeez, she needs to get ahold of herself. He's going on a book tour, not to war. "I'll talk to you tonight."

"You will," he affirms, his smile softening, infusing her with reassurance as the intercom crackles overhead in reminder, prompting him to go. But before he can jog off towards security, before she can start towards the glass doors in the opposite direction, Castle curves his palm at her nape, pushes one last kiss to her lips that has them curling beneath the wonderful pressure of his mouth. "Love you, Kate."

She goes absolutely still, frozen at the breathless declaration, her smile of approval disappearing. He's drifting away before she can even fathom a response, before she can regain the ability to think, before she can even open her eyes. And when she does, he's trotting off towards security, glancing back at her with a mischievous grin on his lips to match the sparkle in his eyes. Like a boy who just got away with breaking the rules.

A boy who loves her.

* * *

Kate is laid out on his couch with Alexis when he calls that night, his daughter passed out at her side, her head resting against Beckett's chest. Martha ran out for groceries, insisting she stock up for her two week stay immediately. Kate had no problem looking after Alexis while she was gone.

"Beckett," she answers under her breath, continuing to absentmindedly sift her fingers through Alexis's hair while _101 Dalmatians_ plays on the television screen.

"Ooh, Detective tone. I'm in trouble."

Kate represses her huff, rolling her eyes instead. "You're a jackass."

"Excuse me?" Castle replies, falsely affronted, because he knows exactly why. "Is this attitude all because of my parting words at the airport?"

"Yeah, actually," she states, taking a deep breath, timing the rhythm of her lungs to the steady rise and fall of Alexis's breathing at her side. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

She can't see him, but she can practically _feel_ his entire demeanor change, the teasing humor instantly vanishing.

"You think it's a joke?"

"That's not what I meant," she answers, knowing that she needs to tread lightly while in this territory. She made his love feel worthless once before, she won't do that again. "You just - what am I supposed to think?"

"Kate, I wasn't trying to make you upset-"

"I'm not _upset,_ " she whispers, doing her best to ignore her knee's insistent urge to bounce. "But you just – you can't just-"

"You heard me tell my mother and Alexis that I loved them, didn't you?" he inquires calmly, but her brow only furrows, not following this sudden line of questioning.

"Yeah? But what does that-"

"Because they're my family and so are you."

Her lungs falter in their steady work, threatening to malfunction if she doesn't restore their control and fill them with oxygen again.

"Rick-"

"I've loved you since I was eleven years old," he continues, earnest and sincere and slicing into her heart. "Because you're my best friend, my family. And it doesn't have to mean anything more than that right now."

"Anything more?" she echoes without thinking, delving right into the implications he's attempting to save her from worrying about. She listens to him sigh.

"Having this conversation over the phone while I'm in a hotel room in Seattle is not how I want to do this," he murmurs and Kate swallows down her nerves, nods before remembering he can't see her. "We'll talk about it when I get back."

Great, so she gets to spend the next two weeks freaking out about it.

"Panicking yet?"

"No," she stammers, giving herself away as he laughs at her and she hates him for it, for always being the only one capable of flustering her. "I'm _not_. I'm sacked out on your couch with Alexis, watching a Disney movie."

"Oh," he murmurs, his tone instantly gentling to that lovely, adoring voice he always adopts when it comes to his daughter. "You went to the loft with her and my mother afterwards, right?"

"Mhmm, I was helping your mom with dinner when you called to talk to Alexis," she reminds him, the tension in her body unfurling at their tentative return to normal conversation, safe topics. "Pretty sure the excitement of hearing from you drained the last of her energy. She passed out five minutes into the movie and hasn't moved since."

Castle chuckles and she grins down at the little girl with her cheek pressed against her ribcage, her fist curled in the shirt at Kate's stomach.

"Thanks for staying with her," Rick says, the sincerity bleeding through his voice, constricting her vulnerable heart. "She's only three and I'm not - by no means am I implying that she needs someone to replace her mother, but having someone who cares about her besides me and my mom, someone who shows up for her so often? It means the world to her, Kate."

Beckett bites her lip and closes her eyes, tries not to overthink it, to think at all about how deep in this she is with him, his daughter, even his mother. She's not just signing up for a relationship with him, she's signing up for an entire family. All or nothing.

"It goes both ways, you know," she rasps, quickly – quietly – clearing her throat from the ridiculous swell of emotion that threatens to form there. "You're my family, too. The three of you."

"Kate," he murmurs and she opens her eyes, savors the soft sensation of his voice saying her name, washing over her. "I so wish I could kiss you right now."

Her laughter has Alexis shifting. Kate purses her lips, strokes her fingers through the length of Alexis's hair to soothe her back into the depths of her slumber.

"It's mutual, Castle," she mumbles, hearing the chime of the elevator from the hallway outside and sighing. "Your mom just got back from the store. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Undoubtedly," he responds without hesitation. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

She gnaws on her bottom lip and shakes her head, covers Alexis's hand at her stomach to still the butterflies stirring there. "Night, Castle."

 _Love you too._


	10. Chapter 10

Castle starts towards baggage claim with his heart pitter-pattering in his chest, excitement twining through his veins and anticipation catching his breath as he scans the area for red hair.

"Daddy!"

He spins on his heel, finds Alexis racing towards him from the opposite direction. Kate is hot on her heels and his mother is trailing after them both with a smile.

Rick drops his carry-on just in time to catch his daughter when she leaps for him, her arms immediately latching around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"Pumpkin!" he chuckles through his joy at being reunited with his child, gripping her in a tight embrace until she draws back to beam at him. "Have you grown since I was gone? I swear you look an entire inch taller."

Alexis's eyes goes comically wide, her lips parting to form an 'o' shape. "Can we memsure me when we get home?"

" _Measure._ And of course we can. He squeezes her leg before bending to deposit her back to her feet with one last peck of his lips to her forehead. "I bet you passed your last mark on the wall."

"Kate messured me once while you were gone too, Daddy! I showed her how to mark the wall just like you do it!" Alexis tells him proudly and Castle can't control the idiotic grin tugging on his lips. But before he can lift his gaze, find the woman who spent more than half of his time away at his loft, she's stepping into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and burying her smile against his throat.

"Hey," he chuckles, banding his arms around her in return and skimming his lips to her cheek. "Miss me?"

"Not at all," she lies, pulling back to reveal that gorgeous smile she normally tries to hide, all bright eyes and gleaming teeth.

"Daddy, aren't you gonna kiss her?" Alexis pipes up from his side, watching them expectantly. Kate chokes on a laugh, instantly untangling herself from him as her cheeks catch fire.

"Alexis," she chastises softly.

Castle arches one of his eyebrows. "Am I missing something?"

"Gram said you and Kate are like a Disney princess movie now," Alexis explains.

Kate washes a hand over her face, shooting a scowl at his mother while she brushes past. She squeezes Kate's shoulder as she goes, doing little to hide her amusement over a predicament she's apparently created in his absence.

"For the record, it was an accident," Martha states, drawing him into a quick embrace and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You must tell us all about the tour, darling."

"On the way home," he nods, but his gaze quickly returns to his daughter and his… his girlfriend? Is he allowed to call Kate his girlfriend yet? "How are Kate and I a Disney movie?"

"Castle," Beckett groans, but Alexis bounces at his side, her toothy grin widening.

"Because you _kiss_ now," she proclaims, reaching for his fingers. "And if you're a Disney movie, I want Kate to be Belle from _Beauty and the Beast_. You can be the beast, Daddy."

Kate snorts a laugh and steps past him for the moving carousel of luggage.

"And what does that make you?" he huffs, following after Kate for his bag, allowing Alexis to swing their linked hands while they walk. "Chip the teacup? Then Gram can be Ms. Potts."

Alexis giggles and nods excitedly. "Yeah! Gram can be-"

"I am not that teapot," his mother scoffs, her bright blue pumps clicking as she bypasses him to sidle up alongside Kate, leaning in to whisper something in his best friend's ear. He can't hear, but it makes her laugh, the caramel curls of her hair sliding from her shoulders to hide the smile on her face.

"Kate likes books like Belle does," Alexis adds, as if she feels she needs to prove her point. "She read to me lots'a nights in a row while you were gone!"

"She did?" he replies, his heart pounding with adoration that flushes through his veins with every beat. He knew that Kate spent ample time with Alexis over the past two weeks, but it sounds like they've become closer than he expected, than he could have hoped for.

"Yeah! She read me bedtime stories, sometimes Gram did too, but-" Alexis cups her hands over her mouth, waits for Castle to pause and bend to allow his daughter the privacy of his ear. "I like when Kate reads to me better."

Castle chuckles and reaches to reclaim Alexis's hand. "That's okay, Pumpkin. I'm glad Kate got to spend so much time with you while I was gone."

"I wish she didn't have to work or she coulda been there more, but she's gotta help catch the bad guys."

"She's kind of like Batman," he nods in reply, watching said hero snag his large black suitcase from the moving cart and haul it over the edge and onto the floor with impressive ease. "The city needs her."

Alexis gasps and bounces on her toes again beside him. "That's even better than a princess!"

"Totally," Castle agrees, the two of them finally joining his mother and Kate. He accepts the extended handle of his suitcase, grazing the knuckles of her hand with his fingertips before she can let go.

* * *

They intended to take him out for a special welcome home dinner after picking him up from the airport that afternoon, but the subtle smudges of purple beneath his eyes, the hints of exhaustion lining his face, convince her that a night out isn't exactly what Castle's craving before he can speak the truth himself.

"I actually just want to go home, if that's okay," he murmurs to his mother as they exit the airport, slipping into a sleek, black town car that is becoming all too familiar to her. "I appreciate the gesture, Mother, truly. I'm just eager to be home again for a little while."

"Whatever you want is perfectly fine, kiddo," Martha assures him, patting the arm looped through hers. "We can still order in if you'd like."

Rick shoots his mother a grateful smile before she climbs into the front seat, already beginning to chat with the driver while Castle settles in the back next to Alexis.

He falls asleep with the length of his arm stretched across the top of the seat, his hand grazing the back of Kate's neck and his daughter curled against his side.

"Daddy," Alexis whispers when the car comes to a halt outside of the loft, rising onto her knees after Kate frees her from the seatbelt, and patting his face. "Daddy, wake up. We're home."

Castle blinks awake, musters a quick smile for Alexis and reflexively curls his fingers in Kate's hair. "Sorry, Pumpkin. Did I fall asleep on you?"

"Yeah, you slept the entire ride home," Alexis drawls, before arching her slim brow. "Did you have a good nap?"

Kate chuckles and eases open her door, hearing the husk of Castle's sleep drenched tone as he answers his daughter. She eases out of the car and retrieves his suitcase from the trunk before he can think to protest, tugging on the handle of his door next.

Alexis is already climbing over him to get out of the vehicle, causing Castle to grunt when she lands a knee to his stomach. But his daughter is smiling at Kate like she has a secret, all devious and sparkly-eyed. Can't be good if Rick has anything to do with it. Beckett sighs, extends her hand to the man watching her with the same, lazy mischief in his gaze.

"Come on, sleepyhead," she prompts, allowing him to lace their fingers while he accepts the embrace of her hand, emerging from the car to stand with her on the sidewalk. Martha is bidding the driver a farewell and Kate thoughtlessly lifts her fingers to the paper-thin skin beneath his eyes before they start for his building, dusting the tip of her thumb to the evidence of his exhaustion. "You okay?"

His lips rise for her, a genuine smile, and his hand curls around her wrist. He holds it there as he turns his head to brush a kiss to the whorls of her fingers.

"Fine, just tired. I never sleep well during the tours," he explains, his thumb skating down the inside of her wrist, caressing the line of her pulse. "But I'll hibernate for a day or two, bounce back in no time at all. By the way, when do I get to kiss you?"

Kate rolls her eyes. "Is that all you think about?"

"Yes."

"Darlings, enough with the loitering," Martha calls, already entering the lobby with Alexis skipping along behind her.

"Later," she murmurs, tugging on his hand, and she means it.

It's been two weeks and she's missed him, his mouth, and she has no intentions of leaving until she's welcomed him home properly.

* * *

Alexis remains glued to his side for the rest of his evening and that suits him just fine. He's missed his baby bird and the daily phone calls were never enough to satisfy the ache that came with being away from his child.

He missed Kate too, _a lot_ , and he's pretty sure she missed him too. She doesn't stray far from him during his first night back. She stays tucked in close beside him on the couch while the four of them enjoy their takeout dinner from the comfort of the living room and stands close enough for her hip to bump his as they clean up and wash silverware in the sink.

His mother wished them all a goodnight after dinner, sharing a wink with Alexis that has Kate burying her head in her hands before sauntering out the door.

Once Alexis's bedtime approaches, his daughter reaches for Kate's hand as well before they can ascend the stairs. His little girl's eyes are uncertain, a little shy, but Kate doesn't hesitate in accepting Alexis's unspoken request, and he follows his two girls up the stairs.

"I'm so happy you're home, Daddy," Alexis yawns while he tucks her in, her eyes already struggling to stay open.

Rick takes a seat on the edge of her bed and brushes back her bangs to drop a kiss to her forehead.

"Me too, Pumpkin. No more book tours for a while, I promise," he whispers, even though he knows Paula already wants to kill him for declining the opportunity to continue the tour internationally. Kate leans against his side, her hip digging into the edge of his shoulder. Because, of course, she knows of the dilemma, was the one to help talk him through it last night when he was overwrought with indecision.

 _"I could always take Alexis with me, let her see Europe," he debated, but he could feel Kate's hesitation to agree before she spoke it._

 _"I don't think it's a bad idea," she hedged._

 _"But?" he prompted, holding his breath while he waited for it._

 _"_ But _I don't know if it's the best idea for a three year old," Kate reasoned quietly. "And it's not just signings when it comes to these tours, right? It's business meetings, consistent travel, late nights..."_

 _He sighed, knew she was right, knew what he wanted to do all along._

 _"You could come with us, explore the most beautiful cities with Alexis while you wait for me to be free," he mused, smirking at her snort of disapproval._

 _"You know I have work and Alexis has school," she reminded him._

 _He leaned back in his hotel bed, pouting. "I know. I should let you go, it's getting late."_

 _"Yeah, but Rick?"_

 _He hummed his acknowledgement, feeling the desire to at least try to sleep creeping up on him._

 _"I kinda don't want you to be gone for a whole month either," she admitted, not even attempting to disguise the truth of it._

He told Paula his decision the next morning.

"Good," Alexis mumbles, closing her eyes and shifting deeper into the plush of her comforter. "Love you, Daddy. Love you, Kate."

"Love you too," they manage to chorus. He smirks up at her, but Kate's already ducking her head, hiding behind the curtain of her hair.

He waits a few minutes, watching his daughter drift into dreamland, her face slack and peaceful, her breathing even, before he carefully rises from the bed and follows Kate back out into the hall.

He lets her make it a few steps towards the stairway, just far enough away from his daughter's room, and then he snags her wrist, reeling her into the curl of his arm around her waist. He's certain he'll have to coax her into his embrace, into allowing him the taste of her mouth, but Kate doesn't even try to stop him.

To his surprise, it's the exact opposite and he isn't the one to initiate their first kiss.

The sway of her body into his is effortless, a single move forward that has her hands capturing his face and her lips seeking his. Castle hums in approval, in relief, at the glorious press of her mouth fitting against his, the all-encompassing sensation of coming home that he finds in the embrace of her arms.

"I missed you," she gasps, arching on her toes and kissing him again, kissing him hard and desperate before he can respond. Castle slowly backs her into the wall, represses his moan at the fit of her body curving so tightly against his.

"I'll never leave again," he gets out, smiling at the breathless puff of her laughter spilling from her lips onto his. "Stay the night?"

"Rick," she sighs, hesitating, and he presses in deeper, his hips cradling hers.

"Still going slow," he reminds her, promises her.

He wants her, he's sure she can _feel_ just how badly he wants her, but he's in no rush to move forward in their relationship until they're both ready for it. He wants to do this right, the way it should have been done five years ago; he's waited too long, hoped too much, to risk screwing this up now.

He whispers a kiss along her cheek. "I just don't want to tell you goodbye yet."

Because Kate Beckett is his last, always has been, if he's being honest with himself, and she's worth waiting for.

"Okay," she murmurs, her nose colliding with his as she nods, her lips brushing his blossoming smile. It has frissons of electricity sparking from every point of contact, snapping through his synapses, and jolting through his veins. "Then don't."

Castle twines their fingers as he leads her downstairs, through his office and to his bedroom. It's only their fourth, totally innocent sleepover, but when Kate releases his hand and drifts into his en suite, it's with surprising ease, already so at home. He wonders if she spent any time in here while he was away, using his room as a private sanctuary, using his bed-

He glances into the bathroom, noticing her standing over his sink with his toothbrush in her mouth.

"You know, I have an extra toothbrush," he huffs, but Beckett merely winks at him in the mirror.

She used his toothbrush on more than one occasion when they were kids, learning early on that it drove him crazy, only encouraging her to steal the hygiene tool a little too frequently.

She spits out the paste while he changes into his pajamas. "Does it really bug you so much now that you make out with the same mouth your toothbrush is in?" she challenges, swishing some water in her mouth and running his brush under the sink before holding it out to him.

He rolls his eyes and steps forward, snags his toothbrush and presses a kiss to that mouth, tasting the remnants of his whitening wintermint. "I'm getting you a toothbrush tomorrow."

"Purple would be my preferred color choice," she smirks, gliding past him into the bedroom. Huh, that little comment went over easier than he expected.

Castle brushes his teeth in a hurry, dropping their shared toothbrush into the holder before using the restroom and flipping off the bathroom light.

"So how does Alexis know we kiss now?" he asks while they get ready for bed, tossing her one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers.

He turns without her having to ask, offering her the privacy to change and busying himself with the zippers of his suitcase, tugging out his toiletries to return to the en suite in the morning, dropping the sealed plastic bag of tiny shampoo and conditioner bottles atop his dresser.

"Your mom let it slip in the car on the ride home two weeks ago, saying how glad she was that I'd _kissed her boy_ while we were both still young," Kate mutters, but there's a flicker of amusement beneath her exasperation. He turns back around once he hears the soft dip of the bed, sees her tossing back the covers and sliding her bared legs beneath the sheets. "She'd been teasing me since the airport because she just _knew_ something was different and I think she underestimates just how smart Alexis is."

"I'll be sure to talk to Alexis about it myself, but how'd she take it?" Castle inquires, crossing the room to climb in on his side of the mattress, bumping legs with her as he slips into the bed. It's just so domestic that he has to bite his tongue to refrain from scaring her off, but… he could get used to this.

He really wants to get used to this.

"I think she's happy about it," Kate murmurs, shifting onto her side and digging her elbow into a pillow, propping her head in her hand. "I think it's easy for her because she's younger, but also because we've been together this long and the only thing changing from her perspective is that we kiss now. Otherwise, we're still just us and as long as that doesn't change, I can't see Alexis having a problem with it."

He can't pinpoint the exact moment the smile consumes his face, only that Kate breathes a laugh at him for it, shaking her head while she hooks her fingers in his t-shirt to tug him down beside her.

"I did want you ask you, though," she mumbles, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip before catching his gaze with reluctance simmering in hers. "Does she ever… does Alexis have hope that you and her mom will get back together? I just - I know kids sometimes don't understand-"

"Kate," he interrupts softly, settling in next to her, mimicking her position and propping on his side to mirror her. "The relationship with Meredith is complicated for Alexis. She's not at an age where she can comprehend why her mom is so absent, but over the last year or so, I do believe she's grown to understand that she's just not a big part of her life. Not like a regular mother, anyway."

Castle frowns through the explanation, the reminder that Alexis will never have the relationship with her mom that she deserves always slashing something open in his chest, a wound born from his daughter's pain and confusion that he doesn't believe will ever fully heal. Not as long as his little girl hurts.

Kate's fingers stroke gently at his throat, feathering at his pulse. Rick blinks, returns to why he opened his and Alexis's personal Pandora's box in the first place.

"But as for me and her mom ever being together? No, she grasped pretty easily that Meredith and I are her parents, but we don't love each other like that. She knows we're friends – though, I use that term loosely – and I actually think she likes that better than the idea of us being a couple," he chuckles, covering the hand Kate has resting at his neck, cradling her knuckles in his palm and tracing her index finger with his thumb.

"Is your ex-wife that horrible?" Kate asks, her apprehension soothed into curiosity. Castle sighs.

"Believe me, you'll see it when you meet her," he mumbles, already cringing at the idea, but… oh, it could be fun to see the woman in his bed, his feisty best friend and badass cop, take on Meredith, put his self-centered ex in her place if only just this once. "It's been over six months since she was here last. Maybe seven? A few weeks before the previous Christmas, if I'm remembering correctly."

"She hasn't seen Alexis since December?" she questions, her brow shooting to her hairline. "Does she call her? Write her? Anything?"

"Well, no," Rick admits, feeling Kate's hand tighten in the collar of his shirt as the disbelief floods her eyes. "When she drops in, it's usually unannounced, a 'surprise' for Alexis," he explains quickly. "Otherwise, it's almost easy to forget she actually exists. So much of Alexis's life has been just me and her."

"I'm starting to see what you mean by horrible," Kate mutters, her arm folding beneath her, pillowing her cheek when she follows its descent. "How could she not _want_ to see her?"

He shakes his head, wishing he had an adequate answer for her. "Question I ask myself every day."

"I won't do that to her." Castle's eyes sweep down to meet the intense gold of her gaze, promise and resolve burning bright in her irises. "I know it's only been a few months-"

"Four months, two and a half weeks," he fills in for her, watching her lips quirk for half a second before she sobers once more, stares up at him with her mouth in a solemn line.

"But this is… this is serious for me. I'm - I know I'm only twenty-four and I won't deny that it scares me to think I'm making decisions that will affect my entire life, but the idea of spending the rest of it with you, with your daughter, it doesn't… it's not as scary as it should be," she gets out, pursing her lips to hide the nerves flickering through her gaze, beating through her chest. "I could belong here, with you."

He feels like a fish out of water, struggling not to gape at her, to throw his arms around her and kiss her senseless, to breathe a sigh of relief. Because his biggest and most consistent fear when it comes to Kate Beckett is the abandonment she inadvertently instilled within him five years ago. It wasn't her fault, he reminds himself, always reminding himself that it was never her fault, but it does have him afraid of how she copes, how she runs.

But she has no intentions of doing that again, she may as well have just reassured him of that. He doesn't wholly believe it quite yet, he can't without the proof of time to back up her words, but this - the desire to try, the honesty, the hope - is honestly all he's wanted since he got her back.

"You already do belong here," he finally replies, drawing her hand up from his collarbone, pressing his lips to her open palm. He musters a smile for her as her fingers splay at his jaw, caressing the jut of his chin and the stubble peppering his skin. "I don't believe in coincidences, Kate. Always knew that if we found each other again, it was going to be for a reason."

 _For keeps_ , he's tempted to add.

"It was unavoidable," she mumbles, her fingers traveling the line of his jaw to drift to the back of his neck, the gentle pressure of her hand enough to draw him down, his body already spoiled and seeking the haven of hers. "Inevitable, really. You and me."

"Timing could have been better, but I'm not complaining," he muses, draping his palm at her hip when she eases one of her knees between both of his, hooking her ankle at his calf.

"Yeah, because you're the one who had to stand in front of a church full of wedding guests with your newly ex-fiancé and tell them the ceremony's off," she scoffs, tracing the shell of his ear with her thumb. So much touching tonight. She's usually not one for the excessive contact, that tends to be his vice, but he could get used to this too.

"Our love story is one for the history books," he sighs, chuckling at the roll of her eyes, watching them flutter closed. He cranes his neck to kiss her, sucking on her bottom lip just to hear her hum of approval, feel the subtle ripple of want trailing up her spine. "I'm sorry that I'm too tired to ravish you tonight."

Kate smirks against his mouth and lowers her head back to the pillow. "No shame in just cuddling, baby."

He huffs and nudges her beneath the blankets, stretching past her to turn the lamp on the bedside table off and bathing them in the city-lit darkness. She's still grinning at him, the pale glow of Manhattan seeping in through his bedroom window to douse her in gentle light.

Castle grazes a final kiss to her lips, tastes the stardust on her tongue.

"Wake me before you leave," he murmurs, relaxing into the memory foam of his mattress, grateful for it after two weeks of hotel room hopping. Kate nods her assent, curls her fingers in the neck of his t-shirt again, no intention of letting go.


	11. Chapter 11

She feels the idiotic grin threatening to claim her lips, light up her face the second she catches sight of him. He's striding towards her, through throngs of pedestrians on the sidewalk, weaving around businessmen and morning joggers to convene with her outside of the Twelfth. Castle's been bringing her coffee for a little over a month now, not every day – at her insistence, not his – but as often as he can. He always manages to convince her to meet him outside of the station for five minutes, chat while he plies her with caffeine and kiss her in the shadows of the building's side.

"Morning, Officer Beckett," he greets once he reaches her, holding out her travel mug with that glimmer in his eyes he wears so proudly, as if delivering her coffee means so much to him.

"Hey Rick," she chuckles, accepting the cup and taking an experimental sip of the scalding liquid. Vanilla latte, her usual since high school that he somehow remembered. "How'd Alexis take her final morning drop off at pre-school?"

"Like a prisoner on death row," he replies with a shake of his head. Castle arrived back from his book tour just in time for Alexis's final week of pre-school before the summer began. Kate was grateful, because the closer her time at school grew to a close, the more dismayed his three year old daughter became. "Have you ever met a child who so deeply dreaded summer? And at _three_?"

"Your child is a rare breed," she concedes, leaning into the wall of brick at her back.

"Sometimes I worry that I grabbed the wrong kid at the hospital. I lived for the summer as a kid," he reminisces.

Kate smirks around her coffee. "Believe me, I remember. All of our teachers lived for you to leave for the summer too," she teases, earning a pout in response that curls into a devious grin.

"We had awesome summers. Your parents would take us all over the place when we were kids - museums and parks, Coney Islands, that little cottage in the Hamptons. And once we were old enough, we'd just roam the city all day," he recalls, a sudden light blooming through his eyes, that childlike excitement he never lost. "We should do that again, you know? We could go all over the city, make new memories."

She doesn't expect his flare of excitement to transfer into her, to fill her with a near foreign kind of adolescent thrill; she doesn't expect to like the idea so much, but the prospect of relearning their city with his hand in hers, embarking on the adventure together, has her heart alight and fluttering.

"I'd love that," she murmurs, smiling up at him, letting him see it all. "And we can bring Alexis to some of our favorite places, tell her the stories."

"You just want to embarrass me in front of my kid."

"Oh, come on, she loves when I embarrass you. Take one for the team."

Castle's laughter has the ridiculous smile on her lips growing, cutting into her cheeks. He's been especially happy since he returned home last week, since they talked late into the night in his bed. It has her chest swelling with butterflies that overtake her heart, tickle the muscle mercilessly, because she did this.

She can make him happy.

"Our summer is going to be a blast. In between all the murders, of course."

Her smile softens and the butterflies inhabiting her chest finally quiet, retreat back to perch within the home of her ribcage at his reminder. She has to get back to work.

"Yes, dead bodies baking in the New York heat, can't wait," she mutters and Castle glances around before curling his hands at her hips, his eyes flickering with amusement.

"Can't take the heat, Beckett?" She doesn't flinch at the husk of his voice, her face remaining carefully blank through the sweep of his gaze to her mouth and back again. But the embers in her stomach begin to crackle. "Heat. Not a bad name for a character. Officer Heat. Ooh, _Detective_ Heat is even bett-"

"Pretty sure my fifteen minute break is coming to a close," she announces, effectively silencing his verbal brainstorming, blocking his train of thought from going down a dangerous route, one that could have her ending up in one of his novels. Effectively subduing the rush of excitement through her insides as well when he mentions the word 'detective', a title she hopes to hold by the upcoming fall. "Don't you have a new Derrick Storm novel to work on today?"

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, releasing her hipbones but grazing one of his hands along her jaw, tucking a stray strand of hair that's slipped from her bun to sit behind her ear again. "I miss your NYPD turtleneck," he sighs mournfully, toying with the collar of her button down until she slaps his fingers away. "We weren't together when you would wear that and do you know how many times I imagined nudging that damn turtleneck down with my nose, my teeth? How many hickeys you could have successfully hid-"

"Rick," she groans, flicking his shoulder. "Stop using me to stall."

"Using you? Stalling? Atrocious accusations, Officer," he replies, feigning outrage. Kate rolls her eyes, manages a brief scan of the area before she drifts forward to fit a quick kiss to his mouth.

"Go write," she mumbles, patting his chest as she slips free from between him and the precinct's outer wall, heading back for the Twelfth's doors, but sparing a look over her shoulder to snag a glimpse of Castle grinning back at her.

She needed to see him this morning, needed his smile and his coffee and the blissful sensation of adoration he instills within her. She needed to see him today to keep herself afloat. The case she, Esposito, and the newbie, Ryan, are assisting the detectives with reminds her too much of her own tragedy. The double homicide of a husband and wife who left a grief stricken daughter behind – it's getting to her, has been for the last thirty-six hours, but seeing Castle soothes her, placated her battered heart for fifteen minutes.

Beckett holds onto the image of him smiling at her, clings to their conversations of the upcoming summer and her hopes of making detective in a matter of months like a lifeline, and walks back through the doors of the Twelfth. She takes a deep breath, prepares to face the crime scene photos tacked onto the board.

Her parents' anniversary is in four days.

It's getting to her.

* * *

Castle cradles the flowers in the crook of his arm and takes a deep breath before he knocks on her door, trying not to listen too intently for the sound of her footsteps on the other side. He's had her address for months now, but surprisingly, he's never been inside of her apartment. He's dropped her off with Alexis on a handful of occasions, even walked her home after dinner recently, but this is the first time he's strode through her lobby, climbed the stairs to the third floor, and knocked on her front door.

He knows today is a brutal one for her, that maybe she doesn't want to see him, or anyone for that matter. He tries not to take that personally, it's apparent that they both deal with their grief very differently, but she hasn't responded to any of his calls, his text messages, and he's worried about her. Perhaps that doesn't warrant him showing up at her place unannounced, but he won't impose if she prefers to be alone, he can just give her the flowers and go.

He waits outside her door for a long time, five minutes that quickly turn to ten, fifteen. He eventually decides that if she's inside her apartment, she isn't going to answer him. And it hurts. But he digs in his pocket for his palm-sized notebook, prepared to rip a page from the inside and leave a note with the flowers he intends to prop against her doorstep-

"Rick?"

Castle glances up to see Kate approaching from the other end of the hallway, her hair damp and curling from the light drizzle of rain outside. Her eyes are red and bloodshot from the tears likely shed at the site of two graves he's visited in solitude too many times to count.

He thinks witnessing her like this hurts worse than anything else.

"Hey," he murmurs, straightening up at her door, forgoing his usual offer of a smile.

"What're you doing here?" she asks, her brow furrowing as her gaze falls to the flowers.

"I - sorry to just show up. I know today is - that you probably don't want..." He purses his lips, stops trying to justify his place here with pleasantries. "I hadn't heard from you, which is okay, I just thought maybe I could bring these by."

Her throat ripples with a swallow, thick and hard to take, and she steps up beside him to unlock her front door. He remains unmoving and hesitant in her doorway, not sure how she wants to play this, only that she apparently wants him to follow her in when she glances back to him in confusion.

He offers her the bouquet after she's shed her coat.

"They're beautiful," she whispers, clearing her throat and caressing the petal of a lily with her index finger. "Thank you."

"Kate-"

"I'm sorry," she rasps, scraping a hand through her hair and carrying the flowers to the kitchen. "I'm not good at this."

"This?" he echoes softly, trailing after her, watching her snag a vase from the inside of a rustic-styled cabinet. She nestles the flowers within the glass with great care, displaying them on her kitchen counter with a small quirk of her lips.

"I took today off from work," she begins, paying far too much attention to the flowers in front of her to avoid meeting his gaze. "Just like I take the date of my mom's death off, dad's too. Because I can't handle… I deal with it better when I'm alone."

"Oh," he lets out, frowning at the information he probably could have figured out on his own. He shouldn't say anything else, should leave and allow her the solitude she seeks, but he just… he hates leaving her alone. Again. "Have you ever tried having someone else around, company for comfort?"

Kate closes her eyes and shakes her head. "No."

"Would you ever want-"

"No, I wouldn't," she gets out, biting the inside of her cheek. Regretful looking. She doesn't mean it, she doesn't. "Not this time, Castle."

"Okay," he murmurs, trying to accept the reality that she's shutting him out again, how easy it is for her. How easy it is for all of those doubts he represses on a daily basis to come rushing in, swelling through his chest and flooding his lungs, the panicked sensation of losing her for a second time. How effortless would it be for her to simply cut him out of her life all over again? "If you ever change your mind, though, Kate… I could help."

She purses her lips and exhales through her nose. "I know you want to help, Rick, but it isn't that simple. You just - you don't understand."

The white-hot burn of anger sizzles through his chest with little, threatens to sear through his system.

"I don't understand?" he repeats, incredulous, but he's still in control, still calm and collected. For now. "How the hell can you say that?"

Kate doesn't answer him, crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her back to him, as if he isn't worth the energy.

"I was there too," he reminds her, standing in the entry of her kitchen, the table that doubles as a stovetop sitting between them. But the barriers she's drawn up around herself in these last few minutes feel like a far greater divide, tall and wide and impenetrable. He hoped that she was done blocking him out, that she was considering the idea of them being a team, tackling issues like this together, partners. Or at least giving it a shot. "I knew both of your parents, I loved them, and if anyone can understand even a fraction of what you're feeling, it's me."

"Castle, please just go home," she growls and his indignation flares hotter, burns brighter. He should listen to her before he says something he'll regret.

"What are we, Kate?"

Too late.

Beckett's gaze cuts to him, her lips in a thin line as she assesses him with building irritation of her own. "We are not doing this now."

"Why not? We resumed our friendship with boundaries, lines that I was fine standing on the other side of until you were ready, but you're the one who crossed them, you're the one who kissed me and told me you wanted more," he reminds her, his hands fisting harder at his sides with each word, the short, crescent moons of his nails digging into his palms. "I don't need a label, I never did, but I need to know _something_ because rarely do we talk about _anything_."

"I want you to leave," she mumbles, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter, her teeth grit so hard, the angle of her jaw is sharp enough to slice. "I never wanted you here in the first place. Not today."

"Only want me when it's convenient for you, right, Beckett?"

"You're being a child," she bites out, but he doesn't feel like he's the one being petulant here.

"You can't just pick and choose the parts of your life that I'm allowed to see," he points out, watching her posture grow feral. "That's kind of what love is, all or nothing."

"What do you know about love, Castle? You've had me, your ex-wife, and a slew of one night stands," she spits out as she turns on her heel to face him, her words like gasoline, the sear of her glare igniting him in flames. "I've been trying to be enough for you, to be _better_ , and you have the nerve to come here and question all of it just because I want to be alone for one day? Today of all days?"

"I came here to check on you because it's your parents' anniversary. I wasn't trying to push or _intrude_ on your private grief, but what the hell am I supposed to do when it feels exactly like it did on those church steps five years ago?" he demands, bypassing the stovetop to corner her against the kitchen counter while she silently fumes.

And yeah, maybe it's unfair of him to continue throwing that at her, to hold such little trust in her after how hard he's witnessed her attempts to reassure him, but his heart is stinging and he isn't exactly keen on reasonable thinking at the moment.

"How are we ever supposed to move forward when you can't let me in? I don't just want the woman who comes over to my loft after work, spends her free time with my kid. I want the cop and the broken parts and-"

"You don't even know me," she snarls at him, her arms unraveling at her chest to mimic his, hands fisting at her sides. "You think that just because we spent our childhood together, you have me figured out and you don't. I'm _not_ the little girl you fell in love with."

"I know you crawled inside your parents' deaths and didn't come out," he challenges, taking a step forward and feeling his chest rise with indignation. "I know that you hide there, the same way you hide in nowhere relationships with men you don't love, men you leave at the altar," he fires back, nearly toe to toe with her now, chest to chest, close enough to see her nostrils flare and the crackling embers in her eyes. "Maybe you're right, maybe I don't know you as well as I'd hoped, but I know you deserve to be happy and I know you can be, I've seen it, but you're afraid."

Beckett purses her lips, the anger still a live-wire sparking through her features.

Castle puts his back to her before she can answer, burn him again, and starts for the door. Each step jostles the bruised muscle of his heart, spearing it against his ribs and scraping it raw. He pauses with his hand on the door, inhales a shallow breath through his nose.

He doesn't like to fight, especially not with her, and he doesn't like to leave like this either, but for today, there's just nothing more to say. Nothing helpful, nothing that won't hurt. But he does want her to know one thing, show her that he really does understand her pain to some degree.

"You aren't the only one who lost your family," he states, the untouched grief he's shied away from for the last five years finally spilling through his chest, scalding him from the inside out. "By no means am I comparing my loss to yours, but your parents… they were my family too, Kate. You were my family, and I lost all three of you."

He steps out into the hall and closes the door behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Her hands sweat throughout the brief elevator ride up to his floor, her heart rabbiting through her chest and her fingers trembling even as she buries them in the pockets of her coat. The guilt has left her feeling fragile, her sternum sore from sobs she buried in her pillow last night, missing her parents, missing him, and regretting every word that came out of her mouth from the second he stepped inside her apartment.

He brought her flowers and she broke his heart. Again. Some girlfriend she made. Not that she allows him to even call her that, not officially, and she may never have the chance to hold the title at all at this rate.

Her grief makes her cold, bitter and cynical; it's why she isolates herself on the dates that feed the beast of sorrow inhabiting the deepest cavern of her chest. She should have known that Castle would eventually weasel his way inside that part of her life too. And despite how she loathes admitting it to herself, he had a point last night. Well, multiple points. But she did too.

Kate exits the elevator with the wild animal of her heart going still like a stone in her chest, threatening to break the bones with its weight. She does her best to breathe past the lump of it before she knocks on his door.

Her knuckles are tentative in their first connection with the hard surface and she rolls her eyes, sucks it up, and raps her fist to the door like she normally would.

Seconds tick by, longer than he'd normally allow, and she ends up holding the oxygen hostage from her lungs while she waits.

She can hear him hesitating on the other side, catching the soft echo of his footsteps on the hardwood floor, their falter and pause. She wouldn't blame him if he chose not to answer, but Castle has mercy on her.

It's the first time he's opened the door to find her on the other side and doesn't have even a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, illuminating his eyes. Instead, she's met with the sight of a guarded man, chest rising with a deep breath while his jaw squares and the blues of his irises harden to a steely sapphire, bracing himself.

Kate ducks her head under his gaze, unwelcome yet wanting at the same time, and shifts uncomfortably outside his doorstep. She sucks in a breath of her own for courage before she finally speaks.

"I want to take you somewhere," she opens with, fighting the urge to twist her hands in front of her, fidget while she awaits his answer.

But the steely expression he wears doesn't soften, and for a long moment, she fears he may deny her, slam the door in her face, and send her back to square one in her attempts of fixing this.

"Where?" he asks, not even a glimmer of curiosity in his gaze. He just looks sad, a little anxious, and... guilty.

Good, she thinks, at least it's not all on her and he's aware of it.

Kate sighs. Still doesn't make her feel any better.

"Come with me to find out. It won't take long," she assures him, watching Rick silently debate with himself, struggling with it, before he purses his lips, opens the coat closet, and grabs his jacket.

"We can't be gone long," he says, stuffing his wallet into the pocket of his jeans, his keys following after he steps out into the hallway with her and locks the door behind him. "I'm picking Alexis up from her play date at-"

"Two," Kate finishes with a nod. "I know, this – we'll be done way before then."

Castle shoves his hands into his pockets and she does the same as they enter the elevator, taking the lift down to the lobby in silence. It's only noon and it will only take a matter of minutes by cab to reach their destination; they have time, she just hopes it's enough to make up for the damage they've both done.

* * *

They sit on opposite sides of the cab on the way, but she watches Castle from the corner of her eye. He's studying the streets they pass, trying to determine the potential address she gave the driver before he could join her in the taxi. She's not sure if this will work, if it's enough, if it's too much; she can only hope it doesn't make things worse.

The breath he sucks in when the cab stops in front of the cemetery minutes later doesn't offer her much reassurance, but Kate pays the driver and exits the cab without waiting on him. Either he comes with her or he doesn't, and while she craves to feel his warmth beside her as she passes through the cemetery gates, she leaves the decision up to him.

The noose around her heart loosens when she hears the slam of a car door, the jog of footsteps approaching to catch up with her.

"Kate." She offers the tilt of her head in his direction, but doesn't stop in her trek through the headstones. "What are we doing here?" he adds in a murmur when she fails to respond with an explanation, his voice low, not wanting to disturb the dead. "Whatever you're trying to prove-"

"It's not about proving something," she replies, equally quiet, absentmindedly reaching for the chain around her neck, her fingers trickling along the length of faded gold. "But you were right last night. I can't pick and choose the parts of my life you're allowed to see. For the record, though, I wasn't _trying_ to shut you out-"

"Kate," Castle sighs, her name a breath of exhaustion on his lips. But he shakes her head against his soft interruption.

"It's just - after my mom died, it's like I built up this wall inside, so I'd never have to… hurt like that again. And after my dad - when he left too, I put up steel barriers to make it even stronger," she attempts to explain without looking at him, training her eyes on the colorful collages of flowers scattered throughout the cemetery while his gaze holds on her. "I've been behind that wall for so long, it's become instinctive to keep anyone else from getting too close, trying to breach it."

Kate releases a long breath through her nose, her lungs deflating in her chest, the twin tombstones she seeks coming into view.

"But when I saw you again on my wedding day, when you came back into my life, it was like - you already had a way in," she confesses, smoothing her thumb along the band of her mother's ring. "It's been so easy to let you in, but it still… it scares me, Rick."

She finally slows to a stop in front of her parents' graves, her heart stuck in her throat and beating too hard, complicating the task of breathing without issue. But Castle is here, already at her back, the broad wall of his chest grazing her shoulder and simplifying the effort.

"It scares me to love someone as much as I love you, Alexis, even your mom," she whispers, blinking away the threat of tears when the carved letters of her mother's name begin to blur. "Everyone I love disappears."

One of his arms snakes around her shoulders and Kate wastes no time in shifting into him. Her fingers snag in the edges of his jacket, her face finding refuge against his neck as he cradles her there, holding her together before the cracks running through her can widen.

"It scares me too," he breathes into her hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear and his words staining her temple. "Sometimes I worry that I love you too much, Kate."

"No," she gets out, the movement of her lips at his throat sending a shudder through his frame. "The way you love me - I was being a bitch last night when I said you didn't know what it was."

"Kate," he sputters, quick to disagree, but she presses on, refutes his denial before it can leave his lips.

"No one has ever loved me like you do," she whispers. "In a way that's good and right and beautiful and I - I never want to lose that, give it up, and I'm so sorry if I made you feel like it wasn't enough, wasn't mutual, because it is. It's everything to me."

Castle squeezes his arms around her, fists his hands in the fabric of her coat. Too tight, not tight enough, and she arches on her toes to fit even closer against him.

"I'm sorry," she rasps, splaying her hands beneath the plates of his shoulder blades, flattening her palms and sealing her chest firm against his until she can feel the beat of his heart thrumming to meet hers. "I'm so sorry for how I treated you last night, for everything I said, being selfish. You can even shadow me at the precinct if you want to see me as a cop, just-"

"Kate," he chokes out, something between a laugh and a sob, and god, they're a mess.

"I just can't risk you getting hurt," she finishes, pressing in closer, as if she can bury herself inside him. "Can't have you here too."

"You won't," he promises her, swears it like he believes speaking the words will make them true. "You won't. And you're not allowed to end up here anytime soon either, just - fuck, can I just buy you and Alexis giant bubbles to live in?"

Kate laughs into his collarbone, grateful for the scrape of sound along her throat, and turns her head, rests her cheek to his shoulder.

"Only if you're in a bubble too," she muses, her lips quirking as his grip on her slowly begins to loosen.

"You and me in separate bubbles? There are so many problems with that particular idea."

"Not in front of my parents, Rick," she chuckles, feeling the riot of his heart calming into a steady cadence, coaxing hers to do the same.

He musters a feigned gasp of shock and squeezes the bones of her hips with his fingers. "You make everything so dirty. I didn't even mean _that._ Though, you do make a good point."

Kate lifts her head so she can finally look at him, meet the glazed quality of his eyes with her own, and offer him a pitiful attempt at a smile.

"I love you," she whispers, dusting her fingers along the plane of his cheek before cupping his face in her palm. "In every way."

"I know," he murmurs, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles along her back. "I'm sorry about the fight. What I said - it wasn't right. Wasn't right for me to discredit you, keep throwing the past in your face. I just - I got scared, overreacted, pushed too hard-"

"It's okay," she murmurs, because he needs to hear it, needs to know it really is okay or he'll just keep beating himself up for it. Kate sweeps her thumb back and forth along the bone of his cheek. "It was fair and maybe it was necessary, opened a lot of wounds we've both been trying to ignore."

He concedes on a sigh, slides his palm up her spine to curve at her nape, submerging his fingers in her hair. "But yesterday of all days, I shouldn't have brought all of that up. You were already-"

"Castle." She skims her thumb along his mouth to quiet him. "Maybe not the best timing, but no point in dwelling on it now."

"Just hate fighting with you. Always have. When you came over today... I was trying to give you time before I went and found you, but I was writing you an apology script."

Her brow rises. "An apology script?"

"I love words, Beckett, but you make me fumble mine. When I apologized for this, I wanted it to be done right. So I wrote it all down, was practicing-"

"Oh, Castle," she chuckles, lacing her arms around his neck and combing her fingers through the baby fine hairs at the base of his skull.

"Don't laugh," he whines, but she's already shaking her head.

"I'm not laughing," she soothes, palming his nape. "But just like you want every part of me, I want every part of you," she says seriously, letting the smile slip away from her lips. "No scripted versions."

He leans in to press his lips to her forehead, his breath suspiciously shaky as he lingers for a moment too long. "Deal."

Her nose brushes his cheek in acknowledgement. "But I uh, did have an idea for if _my_ apology went well?"

Castle draws back to see her, arching an eyebrow in reply. She huffs, burying her face in his shoulder to hide the flush of her cheeks.

"Shut up."

An exasperated noise escapes his lips. "I didn't even-"

"I was just thinking that maybe you and Alexis could come to my apartment for dinner sometime this week, preferably on my night off. I could cook for you guys, like you always do for me," she rushes out, exhaling heavily once all of the words are out. "It's not… well, you saw yesterday that it's not as nice as yours, but-"

"Kate," he stops her, lifting his hands to cup her elbows, his palms molding to the juts of her bones. She withdraws from the hiding spot of his shoulder, reluctantly lifting her head, but Castle's is all too warm, reassuring her. "I'd love to and I know Alexis will too. Not to mention, your place is awesome. Way cooler than mine."

She rolls her eyes, but stretches on the toes of the flats she wore today to brush a tentative kiss to the corner of his mouth. Because this was their first real fight and she isn't sure if kissing is acceptable again yet. The touch of Castle's fingers to her chin, though, staying her as he presses a thorough kiss to her lips has the last of the tension draining from her body. It promises her they're okay.

"Just tell me when works best for you and we'll plan a day," Rick says, releasing her chin only to snag her hand as he untangles from her. But he doesn't lead her towards the cemetery entrance like she expected.

Castle collapses into a cross-legged position in the grass before her parents' graves and Kate folds her legs beneath her, follows him down.

"Rick?"

"Oh, you don't mind if we stay a few minutes, do you?" he asks, concern blooming through the blues of his eyes, etching into his brow, already prepared to rise. "I know you were here yesterday, so we don't have to-"

"No, we can stay," she murmurs, fitting her fingers through his and squeezing his hand, settling in close to his side until their knees bump.

She's never shared the experience of visiting her parents with someone else.

"It's just been a while since I've had the chance to come here," he explains softly, his thumb stroking along the bone of hers. But Kate startles, straightens beside him to see his face.

"You - you've come here before?"

She swears it's the first time she's seen Rick Castle bow his head in modesty, his skin tinted with the gentle pink of embarrassment.

"I used to come by pretty often, the visits have been a little less frequent now, but I - I like to talk to your dad," he confesses, his adam's apple bobbing with a thick swallow, the frown lines around his mouth momentarily deepening.

 _They were my family too._

Oh, Castle.

"I mean, I know he isn't actually… I just miss them sometimes, especially your dad," he finishes with a sigh, the glint of sorrow in his eyes illuminated by the sunlight when his gaze flickers to her father's headstone. Kate winds one of her arms through his, presses deeper into his side.

"They're your family too," she echoes, sealing her cheek to the rounded edge of his shoulder. "They loved you like a son, you know. And my dad… I know what he meant to you."

Her father did a wonderful job in filling the role of a dad to a fatherless boy, providing Rick with a form of guidance, understanding, and a rare kind of love that her best friend never knew. She was always happy to share her dad with Rick - happy to drag him along to baseball games that were once solely a father and daughter experience, happy to take him fishing at the cabin in the summer months, happy to have him in their family.

She was lucky enough to have a mother and a father, and while she knew Rick loved Martha with his whole heart, there was always a hollow spot that lacking a father left him with. Jim Beckett eased that emptiness, filled it. Only to leave it barren once more.

"We lost them together," she whispers, her eyes beginning to sting, threatening to spill over with tears if she dares blink. So she closes them, lets the moisture fall and bleed into the fabric of his jacket. "I'm sorry I forced you to grieve alone, grieve our friendship on top of it all."

Castle's bones shudder beneath her cheek, his frame quivering before he inhales a fortifying breath, his grip on her hand growing hard.

"I'm sorry we had to grieve at all," he whispers back.

"You're still my family," she adds, circling her thumb over his first knuckle. "You still have me. I won't - I won't disappear on you again."

"I better have you this time," he rasps, his voice like gravel, but his cheek rests to the top of her head before she can even think about shifting to see him, to wrap her arms around him, hold him like she should have that day on the church steps. "Don't you ever do that to me again, Kate. I can't take it again."

"Never," she swears, the single word strong as it emerges from her mouth. "I promise, Castle." She draws his hand to her mouth, presses her lips to his knuckles. "I promise."

They stay until it's time to pick Alexis up from her play date.


	13. Chapter 13

She's nervous and it's ridiculous. She's been to Castle's loft too many times to count within these last five months and the switch around of him coming over to have dinner – the dinner she's managed to cook all on her own – at her dining room table as she so often does at his is nothing to overthink.

And yet here she is at six forty-five, biting her lip as she does a critical assessment of her home, searching for flaws, for any non-kid friendly content since Alexis is coming too.

The last time Rick was here, they had a fight in her kitchen, slewing accusations at each other that still held the dull ache of a sting even after a week. She just – she wants to make better memories with him here, wants him to view her apartment as a safe place like she so easily sees the loft. Not as a battleground.

Kate scrapes a hand through her hair, running her fingers through the soft curls she definitely did _not_ style for him, and blows out a breath, turning back towards the kitchen. She started cooking earlier and everything is ready to be served, her modest dining table that often sees more case files than dinner plates set for three. Now, all she needs are the two guests-

Her heart skitters when the knocking on her door arrives just in time, rescuing her from her own thoughts. Kate strides into the foyer, straightens the fabric of her sweater before she unlocks the door and eases it open.

To see Richard Castle and Castle alone.

"Hey," she greets, studying the ragged lines of his face, the stains of purple beneath his eyes more prominent than she's ever witnessed. "Where's Alexis?"

"I knew I wasn't the true guest of honor tonight," he smirks, his eyes flashing with the tease before it fades out again, leaving him looking tired and worn, older.

"Rick," she murmurs, reaching out to curl her hand around his arm. Her fingers coil at the muscle of his bicep and draw him inside. "What's wrong?"

Castle sighs and dread twists through her stomach, knots up the ropes of her intestines as he shuffles into her apartment, waiting for her to shut the door behind him.

"Meredith," he grumbles, scrubbing a hand along his jaw. "I was getting Alexis ready at six and she was so excited because we were coming to your place for the first time. And, of course, because it's Tuesday and she's always extra giddy on Tuesday since that's our dinner with you day. My kid really loves you, you know-"

"Castle," she chastises softly, guiding his rambling back onto its proper track and hoping he's too caught up in whatever has him so unhinged that he doesn't notice her blushing at his words.

"Right, anyway, so I've got Alexis all ready to go and we're literally stepping out the door and Meredith is standing on the other side," Rick huffs, his aggravation bleeding through his features. "I know she has a history of showing up like this, but today of all days – it's like she knew. So naturally, she tells me she's here to spend the evening with Alexis, but _just_ the evening because she has an audition in the morning and then she has to fly straight back to LA."

He shakes his head and forces a deep breath down his throat, reining it all in. Kate wants to lead him to a chair or the couch, but he looks as if he's about to combust.

"And Alexis starts to panic because it always flusters her when her mom just shows up out of the blue, but today especially, since she knew we already had plans with you," he sighs out. Kate braces herself for the rest of the story, one she can already guess the ending to. "So she looks up at me and asks about our dinner with you, which puts Meredith on the defensive because she knows if I'm letting my kid see a woman _I'm_ seeing, then it must be serious, and within seconds my ex-wife and I are arguing in my hallway while my daughter is crying." He scrubs at his own eyes, like he may cry too. "Finally, I just said that Alexis could go with her, even though it'll only make everything worse afterwards and break my kid's heart all over again-"

He chokes on a breath when Kate steps into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight like she used to when they were kids.

"The look on her face just broke my heart, Kate," he gets out, looping his arms around her waist and propping his chin atop her shoulder. "She looked so _guilty_ and it's just not fair, so wrong. And her own mother can't even see it, doesn't care, and I just don't understand how – well, I do, because it's Meredith, but Alexis… she just deserves so much better than this."

Kate withdraws to catch sight of his face, the remorse and anguish etched deep into the lines of his skin, the responsibility.

"Yeah, she does," Kate concedes, touching her fingers to his neck, feathering them up to dust along his pulse, soothe the anxious throbbing. "From Meredith. But from you? Rick, you are the best father Alexis could have. She deserves a better mother, but you are all she _needs_."

He's still frowning, not wholly convinced, and it causes her heart to clench harshly. If there is anything that this man should be certain of, it's how wonderful of a father he is.

"I'm not a parent," she continues, earning the lift of his gaze to her, the sight of his full attention. "But I know what it means to be a good one. From the day I met Alexis, I saw what kind of father you've been to her, Castle. She may not have a full time mother, but she has you and you are more than enough.

His chest hitches against hers. "You really think so?"

"I wouldn't lie to you about this," she assures him, splaying her hands at his shoulders and squeezing. "Alexis is going to be okay."

"Yeah," he agrees tentatively, exhaling a long breath through his nose. "The sooner I get her back from Meredith in a couple of hours, the better."

"Did she give a time?" Kate inquires, wincing when Castle gives her a baleful look. "Guess not. Do you want to pack up dinner and take it to your place so we don't miss them?"

"No, we should… wait, you _made_ dinner?" he asks, glancing past her and craning his neck to see into the kitchen. Kate flicks his ear. "Ow, I was just going to say that Meredith will keep her out as close to her bedtime as possible, so we have time, but – wow, Kate, I didn't know you were going to cook and everything."

Beckett shrugs, releases him so he can wander into her kitchen that has him so curious. "You guys always cook for me."

He pauses beside the stovetop, the same spot he stood last week while they battered each other with sharp remarks.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, disappointment spreading through his eyes. "Tonight was supposed to be-"

"A simple dinner at my place, just like all the dinners I have at yours," she murmurs, joining him in the kitchen, remedying bad memories with the brush of her body against his. "Tonight will be just you and me, but we'll reschedule soon so Alexis can come the next time."

 _Family night_ , her mind supplies.

Oh god, no, dangerous line of thinking.

But it's as if he's read her treacherous thought anyway, his eyes sparkling with the same conclusion. Thankfully, though, for once, he doesn't speak whatever it is he's thinking.

"Okay," he says, instead, his smile tender and the pale pools of his eyes brightening to shine her favorite shade of blue. "What'd you cook for me then, Beckett?"

She smirks and nods to the roasted chicken she made using her mom's recipe, cooling atop the stove. The baked potatoes are still in the oven, keeping warm, steamed vegetables already on the table.

"I know it's pretty basic," she begins, chewing on her bottom lip while he assesses the table across the room. It's been a long time since she's constructed a meal that wasn't microwavable or available on a takeout menu; Castle creates home-cooked meals for Alexis nearly every night. "And if you want something else, we could-"

"I want this," he cuts in, confident and sure of himself. He curves his hand at her nape, his gaze as certain as he sounds when it snags hers. "This is all I want, Kate."

She doesn't think they're talking about her cooking anymore.

* * *

He groans, grinning sheepishly when her eyes narrow on him from across the table, her toes nudging his shin, but he forgot how good of a cook his best friend could be. Whatever she marinated the chicken in is _amazing_ , bursting with flavor, the baked potatoes soft and golden, and the vegetables seasoned to perfection. She even left out the peas from the mixture on his plate because she remembered how he hates them.

Yeah, if there was any doubt to how flat on his face in love he has fallen with Kate Beckett before, it's certainly gone now.

"Stop gazing at me like a lovesick teenager all over again, Castle," she mumbles around a bite of her chicken, smirking from behind her fork when he gasps.

"All over again? Excuse me?" he replies, pointing his knife in her direction. "It was you who was lovesick over me."

Kate scoffs, a quiet laugh that makes him smile even when it's him she's laughing at, and lifts her wine glass to her mouth, taking a slow sip of the red. She's only on her first glass, but it'll be her last, of that much he's sure.

"It's true," he protests, chewing on his final piece of chicken, his baked potato gone, and only a few vegetables left scattered across his plate. "You already confessed your jealousy from when Kyra was in the picture, no use holding back the rest now, Officer."

"You think you're going to interrogate answers out of me, the detective in training?" she quips, quirking an eyebrow at him while she rises from the table, nodding to his plate and receiving his approval before snagging the cleaned dish from in front of him.

"Ah, Beckett. You know just how to throw me off," he sighs, following her ascent from the table to the sink. "I have a hard time concentrating when thoughts of you as a detective get triggered."

Kate rolls her eyes and rinses the plates, leaving them in the sink before sauntering into her living room. She eases onto the sofa and tilts her head to the empty cushion space beside her. He grabs both of their barely touched wineglasses and crosses the room to join her.

He likes her living room, her entire apartment, really. He didn't have the chance to truly study it the last time he was here, but tonight, he's able to appreciate the space, the rustic kitchen and the industrial interior of the lounge area, the art on her walls and the books on her shelves – all of his present and accounted for, because of course he checked. The couch she's settled on provides an impressive view out into the sea of city lights, bright in the darkening night sky. They bleed through the glass, merging with the warm glow of her apartment and drenching her in starlight.

He takes a breath and subdues the urge to prop his hand atop the head of the sofa, lean in and claim her mouth-

"Speaking of jealousy," she murmurs, accepting the glass he holds out to her before he takes his seat beside her, lifting her feet to drop them in his lap. "I was _not_ the only one to possess a green-eyed monster."

"Are you trying to imply that I was jealous because-"

"Drew Holts, the senior I dated in sophomore year," she tosses back and Castle automatically scowls at the name he can still remember. He huffs at her crow of victory. "You couldn't stand him."

"He was a jerk," Rick grumbles into his wineglass and drops his hand to her ankle. "And he cheated on you."

"Never said he wasn't a jerk," she concedes, still looking all too pleased with herself as she reclines into the arm of the couch. "Just proving a point."

"Fine, I was jealous," he admits. He retains the truth of how he tracked down Andrew Holts the day after his sixteen year old best friend came home with tears in her eyes because her first 'serious' boyfriend cheated on her with another girl.

He clocked the leather wearing, motorcycle riding, bad boy in the jaw, left a prominent bruise and gained a flaring ache in his knuckles. It wasn't his style, he's always been skilled at using his words over his fists, but seeing Kate Beckett cry ignited flares of red in his vision and intimidating the fellow senior wasn't hard.

She would have killed him if she knew, would probably kill him now if he told her, but Holts deserved it, knew it too, and Rick's secret was kept safe.

"Only because I knew you deserved better."

"Mm, as in you?"

"Duh," he smirks, relishing in the escape of laughter at the unexpected agreement. "I should have kissed you."

Kate props her elbow to the couch, drops her head against her knuckles as her eyes drift over him in amusement. "Are you referring to a specific moment here, Castle?"

"Nah, just a general consensus of our teenage years," he sighs, spreading his fingers over the top of her foot. "So many good opportunities I missed."

"Oh yeah? Okay, when do you think our first kiss should have occurred?" she questions, narrowing her eyes on him over the glass of her wine.

"You first," he challenges, but Kate shakes her head at him in return, nudges his thigh with her toes.

"No, cheater, I asked you," she chuckles, wiggling her toes when his fingers curl around the naked bone of her ankle. He sighs in defeat.

"Fine," he mutters, stealing a second to sift through the years of his youth, all of the occasions in which he daydreamed about pressing his lips to Kate Beckett's mouth. "Ooh, probably that time when we had prom, and I made that elaborate plan to take you since it was my last year before college, remember?"

Kate groans and drops her head back against the sofa. "Oh god, that was a disaster. We got into such a big fight."

"Yeah, because you were so damn stubborn," he mumbles into his glass, grunting at the dig of her heel into his quad muscle. "Still are."

"No, _you_ were the stubborn one, trying to make me follow rules and conventions," she reminds him and his eyes roll.

"Ah yes, god forbid I take Rebel Becks to the prom."

"I think we're getting off track here," she points out, chewing on her bottom lip to subdue the smirk reclaiming her lips. "Hurry up and tell me how this relates to our first hypothetical kiss."

Castle settles back further into the sofa, clearing his throat, preparing for a good story to tell.

"Well, you kept snapping at me," he recalls, chuckling at the memory of their big blowout in his living room. He was dressed in a tux that he rented from the place down the block and Kate showed up at his door in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, eyeing his attire with distaste. "We were both so upset with one another because you had your heart set on that damn poetry slam and I had mine set on being a gentleman and taking you to prom."

"Mm, that was actually pretty sweet of you," she admits, cradling her wine to her chest and grinning back at him with soft eyes. "You'd even bought me a corsage."

"You remember that?"

"I think I kept it actually," she confesses on a gentle laugh. "You threw it on the floor before you stormed back into your room, I picked it up and took it with me before I stormed back upstairs to _my_ room."

"That's when I would have kissed you," he murmurs, stroking his thumb along the thin skin across the protruding bone of her ankle. "When we were fighting, I just wanted to walk across the room, kiss you until we both forgot what we were arguing over."

Kate goes quiet at the picture he paints, the twist on that memory apparently vivid enough for her to imagine.

"You just wanted to shut me up."

He shrugs. "Could have been an added benefit."

She punishes him with the stab of her heel to his outer thigh once more.

"Ow, ow, okay," he whines, flicking the top of her foot and feeling his heart flutter pleasantly in his chest at the renewed song of her laughter from across the couch, at how much he's heard her laugh throughout just the last hour. "Your turn. How would our first kiss have gone if you would have had the guts to kiss me?"

Kate rolls her eyes, but she already knows her answer. He can see it in the fidget of her fingers along the stem of her wineglass, watches her stop him from reading it in her eyes with the curtain of her lashes falling to shield it.

"There was never a particular moment," she begins on a mumble, her voice pitched so low that he has to scoot closer to catch her words. "It probably would have been on an ordinary day, nothing spectacular, just…" She purses her lips and he notices the skin of her throat flushing with color. "Like when we would study together and you'd be close enough that I could just do this."

Kate sits up from reclined position against the arm of the couch, balancing her free hand on the cushion between them to crane forward, stain a kiss to his lips. Castle catches her by the nape before she can descend back into a sitting position, cradling the base of her skull and brushing his thumb along the shell of her ear.

"Tell me more," he mumbles, grazing his lips along the tender flesh of hers, taking in the stuttered exhale of her breathing, kissing her bottom lip when her mouth parts for him.

"Why do you always have to keep talking?" she groans, her knee sliding over his lap, straddling him until she's sitting atop his thighs. She deposits her wine glass to the table behind her, taking his with it, before letting her body drift into him, hot and tightly wound beneath the hands he molds to her sides.

"Because I want to know," he hums into her mouth, stroking his knuckles along the rungs of her ribs, strumming the bones, his breath catching at the shallow thrust of her hips in response. "Everything, I want to know-"

"When you brought me books the week I had my appendix out," she gasps, her nose skirting along his cheek while his hand migrates upwards, skirting the underside of her breast on its way to cup her jaw. "I wanted to kiss you every time. And when we marathoned Nebula 9 that summer even though you hated it-"

He chuckles, earning a nip of her teeth to his upper lip for it, but she's smiling too, sinking into his lap with a sigh of approval.

"That night your apartment had to be fumigated and your mom stayed with her boyfriend, but you stayed with us," she whispers.

Castle glides his other hand down to the sharp bone of her hips. He remembers that, being nineteen and in the middle of his first year at NYU, crashing on Kate's couch, waking up to her standing over him with a cup of coffee and a smile that dazzled in the sunlight. He wanted to drag her down to the couch, curl up with her like they so innocently could have as children, but also to… not, to not be kids at all. To feel the weight of her on top of him instead, to know the sensation of her mouth on his like he does now.

He never would have fathomed that she felt the same.

"I can't believe we lasted that long being just friends," she breathes, shaking her head in gentle astonishment, tracing her fingers along his ears as her body calms above his.

"Neither can I," he confesses, dropping his head back against the couch.

He wants to do now what he wishes he did then, lay her back along the length of the sofa, thoroughly savor this wonderful new territory of _more_ than friends. But he'll have to leave in an hour or two, anxiously awaiting his little girl's return home, and he doesn't want his first time with Kate to be rushed, for his attention to be divided.

"Stop thinking so hard, Castle," she murmurs, pressing her lips to his jaw before replacing the touch of her mouth with the nuzzle of her nose. "Alexis is okay."

"I wasn't-"

"You're worrying, understandably." Beckett sits back on his knees, her thumb caressing the scar above his eyebrow that she witnessed him gain over a decade ago. Goofing off in Central Park, trying to show off for her, and proceeding to fall off the statue he was attempting to climb. "Like I said, we can go to your place, wait there, if you want? Might calm your nerves a bit."

"I don't want to drag you to my place this late," he sighs, smirking at the roll of her eyes.

"Castle, it's nine o'clock."

"But you have to work tomorrow," he points out, but Kate merely shrugs in response.

"I'll pack a bag, stay over and go straight from the loft to the precinct."

Oh, he likes that idea. She's done that a couple of times before in the handful of nights she's stayed until morning and it makes him feel as if it could be their normal, him seeing her off to work in the early hours, welcoming her home in the late.

"I'll take that as a yes," she chuckles, ascending from his lap to start towards her room. He watches for a second, the sway of her hips in jeans that cling to her curves perfectly, before he's jumping up to follow.

He is _not_ missing an opportunity to see her bedroom.

But the sight of her office catches his eye first and Castle takes a slight detour into the other room, intrigued to see her workspace. He appreciates the furniture and the design of the place, the pieces of her scattered throughout the room adding to its character. He steps in deeper when his gaze snags on a colorful piece of paper sticking out from one of the window shutters.

It doesn't cross his mind to ask for permission before he's carefully drawing the ivory shutters back, curiosity overtaking his brain, but falling dead once the plethora of index cards, case information, and photos of her mother – her mother's _dead body_ – are splayed before him across the window pane.

"Rick," she chokes out from behind him. Castle stumbles as he spins on his heel to see her standing in the doorway, an empty overnight bag in her grasp and devastation in her eyes. She clears her throat, her lips parting, but no other words successfully leave her, and he attempts to close the distance between them, show her that it's okay.

He isn't necessarily thrilled that she's attempting to pursue the people who stabbed Johanna in an alley and left her to bleed to death, that she's obviously doing this off the record, on her own, but he knows without a doubt that nothing he could say would ever change her mind, stop her. Wouldn't even sway her.

"You're… investigating her case," he assesses, watching her throat bob, struggling with a swallow as she nods.

"I'm trying." Kate sighs and drops her bag, strides past him and reaches for the edges of the shutters, easing them closed once more. "I haven't - there's not much progress to be made right now. I don't have the resources, the access, but I will. When I make detective."

He almost allowed it to slip his mind recently _why_ she's been fighting so hard for that promotion. Even on the nights she's whispered her aspirations about rising in her career, about submitted applications and hopes to land in the homicide department, he almost allowed himself to forget that it was all for this. To solve her mother's murder and bring Johanna Beckett's killer to justice.

The goal that destroyed everything else in her life, consumed it.

"You will," he says without doubt, because he believes it, he does. He hasn't had the chance to see her in action as a cop – yet – but he's heard her stories after a long day of work, heard the determination, the passion, in her voice each time she discusses a case with him, and he knows she has what it takes to be a phenomenal detective. To be more than her mother's death. "You're going to make detective and you'll find justice for Johanna, but Kate… don't do this alone."

Her head turns, glancing over her shoulder before the rest of her body follows, rotating to face him with trepidation building in her gaze.

"I have resources, contacts that could be helpful," he begins, stepping forward to meet her in the middle of the office, within arm's reach, but he keeps his hands at his sides. "Once the time is right, when you're a detective and you're able to explore the case more thoroughly, let me help. If we work together-"

"Rick-"

"This is why I lost you last time," he blurts, pursing his lips, cursing them for allowing the words to break free and strike her silent.

They've gone over this, she's provided him with reassurances through her words, her actions, but nothing she can say or do will quell the instinctive panic that bubbles in his chest every time the threat of saying goodbye to her again arises. He can live without Kate, he has before, but he doesn't _want_ to, he refuses, and he clings to the flare of determination through his veins, uses it.

"I'm not a cop, but we make a good team. We always have," he continues calmly. "I could at least make a decent sidekick."

Kate stares back at him for a long moment, her eyes dark and flashing with uncertainty, wariness like a wild animal backed into a corner. But then she's raking fingers through her hair, exhaling a deep breath that shudders through her frame.

"You're not a sidekick, Castle," she mutters, dropping her hand to her side as she looks up at him with the beginnings of a smile flirting along the corners of her mouth, soothing the riotous drum of his heartbeat. "Partners. If we're a team, you're my partner."

Those doubts he still harbors diminish even further, burning to ash beneath the flare of promise in her eyes, the resolution shining bright. She's in this, every piece of her life, every layer, raw and exposed to him.

Castle closes the foot of space between them, snags her hand and slides his fingers through hers when they flex in invitation.

"Partners then," he confirms, his words solemn, but his face breaks into a smile when hers does. And then Kate is squeezing his hand and arching on her toes, pushing her mouth to his in a kiss that has his heart beating wild for all the right reasons.

"This is a much better way to seal a deal than that time you spit on your hand before you shook mine," she mumbles.

Castle huffs, nudges her nose when she laughs at him for it. He finds awe in her far too easy, he always has, but he can't help the gratitude that spills through his chest to hear her laughing mere minutes after discussing her mother's case, the death that changed her entire life.

She may be prepared to dive down a rabbit hole, but he'll be right behind her, prepared to pull her out if she falls too deep.


	14. Chapter 14

Kate stretches out on the couch of his office, her spine cracking, toes popping, her body snapping awake bone by bone. She turns her face into the soft warmth of Castle's thigh beneath her cheek.

His fingers sift through her hair as her eyes peel open, landing on the TV they were watching a movie on, the screen dark. His office is illuminated by nothing but the quirky, crystal skull lamp on the edge of his desk, throwing prisms of golden light across the room and along the side of Castle's face.

"Time?" she mumbles, rolling onto her back to stare up at him while the sleep clears from her vision, allows her a clear picture of the troubled man above her. Embers of adoration flicker in his eyes as they meet hers, but ultimately, she can see that he's still overwhelmed with upset.

Must be late.

"Eleven-thirty," he sighs, looking so utterly exhausted. She must have missed the most recent surge of barely repressed anger that she can see glimpses of in his features, receded but all too ready to return. "Alexis's bedtime is seven. Nine at the very latest."

Kate turns her head, close enough to brush the tip of her nose along the jut of his hip before she sits up, curling her fingers along the forearm he has draped across her side.

"Is there no way to contact Meredith?"

Castle scoffs, a bitter sound that she knows is just a prelude to an outburst of irritation. She certainly doesn't envy his ex-wife right now. "Of course not. I called her phone five times in the last hour alone, but she just sends me straight to voicemail every time. She's practically holding my kid hostage and doesn't even care about how it affects Alexis. It's almost midnight and my three year old little girl is _out_ right now and you have work in the morning and-"

"Rick," she interrupts with a squeeze of her hand, her palm traveling the length of his arm to curl at his bicep. "She'll bring Alexis back and if she doesn't, I'll get in touch with Montgomery, call in an early favor."

His eyes simmer with intrigue before he's shaking his head, hooking his fingers at her hip. "Kate-"

The murmur of her name is interrupted by three precise knocks on the front door.

Beckett quickly untangles from him, tugs him up from the couch, and lets him take the lead. She doesn't know if it's her place to accompany him to the door, where his ex-wife is most likely on the other side, but he's catching her hand before she can slow to a stop in the office's entryway, where she could remain partially hidden, and drawing her along after him.

She doesn't resist the guide of his hand. Strength in numbers is always a good idea and well, Kate isn't above admitting that she's curious to see this woman, curious to see his 'type, and prepared to spear her with her best death glare for the hell she just put Rick through.

Castle releases her hand to unlock the door, swinging it open with his jaw set sharp enough to slice, his nostrils flaring, but the dazzling actress on the other side doesn't appear the least bit concerned by Rick's appearance. Not until she notices Kate at his side.

But Kate isn't looking at her and neither is Castle, both of their gazes darting to Alexis, holding loosely to her mother's hand and immediately dropping it the second she sees her father.

"Daddy," she sighs, hastily shuffling inside to reach for him. Her arms cinch around his neck when Castle bends to retrieve her. "Missed you."

"I missed you too, Pumpkin," he whispers, stroking a soothing hand down her spine, down the disheveled braid of her hair. He's already swaying back and forth, subtly trying to calm both himself and his daughter. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Oh, I'm sure she didn't miss you _too_ much," Meredith sighs, dismissing the scene with a wave of her hand through the air, her voice light and bubbly, carefree. "We were too busy having fun! Right, Lexi?"

Alexis nods against Castle's shoulder, but her eyes are already falling closed, fighting to stay open as they land on Kate.

"M'sorry I missed our dinner, Kate," she whispers, her bottom lip trembling. Kate quickly shakes her head, clasping one of Alexis's hands and giving her tiny fingers a squeeze.

"Don't worry about that, sweet pea," Kate murmurs with a smile, hoping it conveys at least something close to reassurance. "Your dad and I are already planning to reschedule so you can come over some other time."

Alexis nods, her cheek pressing into the bone of Rick's shoulder, her body expanding with a deep sigh.

"Ah, yes, so sorry about crashing your little dinner party," Meredith chimes in with a laugh that grits on Kate's nerves, reminds her of the 'mean girls' from high school, so false and condescending. "But I'm sure… Kate, is it? Understands the importance of family time. Speaking of, Richard, where should I put my bags?"

Kate chokes on her own breath at the same time Castle releases a disbelieving noise, his gaze shifting to a glare aimed at his ex-wife.

"Meredith, you are not staying here," he states under his breath, aware of the dozing little girl in his arms. He's trying so hard to keep the peace, Kate can see that, but he's on a tightrope of control and so very close to falling.

"Kitten," she whines, drifting in closer to Castle. She drapes her hand along the arm supporting their daughter, looking up at him from beneath her perfectly curled lashes. Kate's chest sparks hot with something deeper than jealousy, something far more urgent and primal. The sudden need to claim what is hers. "You know when I stay in the city, I like it best when I stay with you and Alexis."

"You have an audition in the morning," Rick reminds her, taking a step back, until Meredith's hand is forced to drop from his arm. "And we're at maximum occupancy here."

His ex-wife's ice blue eyes cut to Kate, sharp like glass and glimmering with suppressed indignation. "I don't have a problem with your friend staying in the guest room. You won't disturb us, will you, sweetie?"

"Meredith," he growls, but Kate is already stepping between him and his daughter and the woman who deliberately disrupted her evening with Rick and Alexis, who purposely kept Alexis out until midnight in a show of dominance, who is delusional enough to think she has a place here.

"I don't sleep in the guest bedroom," Kate snaps, her voice low in a practiced tone she's been saving for future interrogations. "Every night I stay here, I stay with him. I may not know you, Meredith, and I'm sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances, but don't think for a second that you're getting anywhere near his bed."

Meredith straightens, the ice in her eyes remaining but threatening to crack, debating. They could have it out in the entryway of the loft, hissing under each other's breaths, but she has a feeling Meredith can already sense who would win.

"You're right, Richard." His ex-wife's lips form a pretty pink pout and Meredith tears the pierce of her gaze from Kate's, managing to relax the tense set of her features enough to shoot a wink in Castle's direction. "I do have an important audition in the morning, but maybe the next time I stop in for a visit, hmm?"

Beckett refuses to give the other woman the reaction she seeks, simply waiting for her to curl her dainty, manicured fingers around the handle of her suitcase and saunter down the hall, back to the elevator.

Castle releases a long exhale beside her, but Kate avoids his eyes, easing the front door shut and tilting her head towards the stairs when he hesitates. He's already carrying his daughter up to her room once she's done locking up the front door.

Kate leans back against the hard surface of it for a deep breath of her own, banishing the unkind thoughts about his ex and his taste in women, before drifting back towards his bedroom. She snags a t-shirt from the top drawer of his bureau, stripping the sweater from her upper body and replacing it with the worn fabric of his clothing. Her overnight bag is already at the foot of his bed and she unzips the duffel to deposit her shirt inside, shimmies from her jeans to add them to the light pack of luggage that contains nothing more than her uniform for tomorrow and a few toiletries for a morning shower.

"Oh, jeez, Beckett," Castle mutters from the bedroom doorway. She glances over her shoulder to see him lifting his gaze to the ceiling. "You can't be hanging out in here pants-less when there's nothing I can do to take advantage of this privilege."

"What's the matter, Kitten?" Kate inquires with a smirk and Rick groans, cringing from behind the guard of his hands over his eyes. "Too tired to ravage me tonight?"

"Please, just forget you ever heard that godforsaken pet name."

She chuckles as he shuffles towards her, lacing his arms loose around her shoulders. Kate tilts her head back, accepts the sigh of his breath against her lips with a smirk.

"Mm, I want to, but I'm also curious to hear you purr."

"You are _cruel_ ," he mutters, ducking his head to bury his face in her neck while she tries – and fails – not to laugh at him. "And really hot when you're putting my ex-wife in her place."

She catches her bottom lip with her teeth, meets his eyes hesitantly even though he's grinning down at her. "Sorry if I overstepped."

"Are you kidding me?" His smile grows. "What you told her was… perfect. And accurate."

"Accurate?" she echoes, tilting her head in curiosity.

"You're the only one allowed in my bed, the only one I want in it," he murmurs, husks. "Aside from my kid."

Kate hums her approval, swallows down the arousal, and coasts her hands along his sides to toy with the hem of his shirt. "Speaking of the exception, is she okay?"

Castle nods, his thumb brushing along the paper thin skin beneath her eye, skimming over the small beauty mark near the corner, until he's following the bone of her socket to trace her eyebrow. He's far too fascinated with touching things, touching her, and she tries valiantly not to imagine what it will be like when he's allowed to touch everything else. Not yet.

"For tonight, I think so. I'm going to make her sleep in tomorrow and maybe after she's had enough rest, I can try to talk with her about it, see how she's really feeling," he explains, but the lines around his mouth, his eyes, deepen at the mention of it.

"I can come by later if you want? Provide moral support?"

Castle's lips twitch with a smile. "I'd love that. So would Alexis, especially after she was robbed of hanging out with you today. But I know you have a full day tomorrow, so don't feel like you have to-"

"I don't. I want to," she cuts in with a quirk of her brow. "Now come on, let's brush and then you can tell me the bedtime story of how you ended up being a 'kitten'."

"Bedtime story," he grumbles, shuffling along after the tug of her hand towards the bathroom. "More like nightmare fuel."

"Does make me question your choice in women," she lets slip, the tone remaining teasing, but she can feel his hand tighten in hers.

"Kate." He stops, forcing her to as well, but she doesn't look back at him. "If you want to know, just ask."

She glances back over her shoulder. "I don't need to know."

And she doesn't. She really doesn't. He's already told her the basics: party, alcohol, one night stand. What else is there to know?

"Mm, well, I do." Her brow furrows, the confusion allowing him the opportunity to reel her in by the link of their hands. "I want to know why _him_." Her bones stiffen, blood rushing in her ears. "I didn't exactly know how to bring it up, but it's been six months since the wedding, and it's always been in the back of my mind." His throat bobs with a swallow. "What was it about Will that made you choose him?"

"I - I didn't _choose_ him," she gets out, untangling her hand from his, edging away from him until her back hits the bathroom's doorframe. Until she realizes what she looks like, how she's acting. Like a wild animal backed into a corner when all he's done is ask a question.

Kate scrapes a hand through her hair, shooting him what she hopes is an apologetic look he can understand.

"I mean, it wasn't a conscious decision. We met while I was in the Police Academy. He's older than me, was just starting out in the FBI but already doing well. We're both... closed off, it was easy to just be together without having to try because he didn't demand much of me and I didn't demand much of him."

"Does he know everything?" Castle murmurs, concern flickering across his face. "About your mom, your dad?"

"He knew enough," she shrugs, unable to help the fall of her gaze to his socked feet. "I didn't like to talk about it, he rarely tried to push. We worked well together, but I never had to let him in completely for him to be happy with me, with us. We were happy enough."

"Beckett," he sighs, but she purses her lips, shakes her head against his opinion of her relationship. It may not make sense out loud, may not make sense to anyone else, but Will made her feel safe, comfortable. She never had to dive too deep, go too far, and at the time, before Richard Castle slipped into her dressing room and tapped into her desire for more, she could have been happy with 'enough', with Will.

Not extraordinary, but happy enough to marry him.

"Will was a good fit for me, the closest I planned to get to happy," she says, absentmindedly brushing her thumb along her ring finger. "I was content."

"And now?" Her eyes flash up to see him, expectant and a little too hopeful. As if he doesn't already know.

"Will was a good fit," she repeats. "But we both knew it wasn't a perfect one."

His throat ripples again. "Not like this?"

She sucks in a shallow breath through her nose. He's always making her say more than she wants to, but maybe he deserves more from her, wants so much more. More than Will was capable of.

"Not like this." Kate abandons the safety of the wall at her back, stepping into him instead. Rick's arms lace around her, his body unwinding against hers, and the exhale of his breath fluttering through her hair. "Nothing could ever be as good as this."


	15. Chapter 15

Kate tugs her jacket a little tighter around her body, hunching her shoulders against the surprising chill of the early summer day. She scans the flocks of children flooding from the school's entrance, searching for the fiery red hair she knows so well.

Castle's been avoiding his writing responsibilities for a while now, coincidentally since Kate began spending more time in the loft after her wedding day. For the past two weeks, he's been scrambling to meet his deadline before his publisher, Gina, makes good on her threat to "drip honey on his eyeballs and let loose a hundred fire ants".

Today, he's scheduled to be locked into multiple meetings and asked her if she would mind picking Alexis up from 'summer vacation week' at her pre-school since his mother was busy, apologizing to her like it was some sort of hassle.

"Rick, I don't mind," she told him from the couch in his office last night, a case file in her lap and a pen dangling between her fingers. "I know I only met her six months ago, but Alexis is pretty easy to fall in love with."

He beamed at her from over the lid of his laptop. "Yeah, she is."

"I have nothing planned for tomorrow either, so picking her up from school won't be an issue whatsoever ," Kate assured him. "Maybe I can take her out while we wait for you to be freed from your meetings, do something fun."

Castle held her eyes with something like magic sparking in his.

"Really?"

It baffles her sometimes, how surprised he can look at the suggestion of her offering to hang out with his kid, as if the notion of spending time with his daughter is so out of the ordinary.

"Am I missing something here?"

"No," he sighed, pushing back from his desk and rising from his office chair. He crossed the room to take a seat on the edge of the sofa, leaning into the brace of her shins. "I've just… I know you're different, so different, but other women I've dated - the last thing on their mind was my kid. And well, you've already seen how Meredith is," he muttered, bitterness from the previous visit, the disaster that occurred only a little less than a month ago still fresh on his tongue. "I - I don't want to overwhelm you, but I'm still kind of amazed that you're here. For me and for her."

It still strikes her too sometimes, that circumstances - or _fate_ , as he preferred to call it - led them back to one another after years apart, after what she thought was the end for them on the day of her mother's funeral. It still steals her breath and laces a smile like a string of lights across her lips, but she knows that despite all of the progress they've made, Rick remains wary of her at times, whether he realizes it or not. She can accept that it's with good reason.

She walked away from him five years ago, tarnished years of trust and friendship, and now it's her responsibility to work through the aftermath of that mistake, to reassure him that she isn't going to leave him again.

"You're right," she nodded, depositing her closed case file to the floor in front of her, placing her pen neatly atop the manila folder. "I'm not like your other women."

"Beckett," he huffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw as his ears turned pink. "That was not my point-"

"Wanna know why?" she pressed, nudging her toes beneath his thigh and stealing the troubled hand from his jaw. He shot her a baleful look, but his eyes were still sparkling and his fingers flexed within the curl of hers. "Because you were my best friend first and you still are. Loving you just comes with a bonus feature now."

The flush of color abandoned his face in favor of that beautiful look of adoration, that crooked smile that made her heart flutter.

"Alexis will always be the top priority and I'd never want that to change. I care about you both," she murmured, the corner of her mouth quirking. "Love you both."

"Yeah, definitely better than any other woman," he grinned, using the head of the couch for leverage as he balanced over her, painted a kiss to her lips that escalated into more, always more.

She wants more; she wants to do more than tell him she loves him. She wants to _show_ him. But between his work and her own, they haven't been given much of a chance to move forward in their relationship.

Since progressing into the luxury of kissing him, though, spending innocent nights in his bed every few days, she isn't too bothered. They have time, _years_ to make up for, and she just has to keep reminding herself that there's no need to rush.

Now if only her body would follow the same logic as her mind.

Beckett spies Alexis trotting towards the gates with another little girl, hugging her goodbye before lifting her head to seek Kate out in the crowd of parents and nannies. Her easy pace accelerates into a run once she spots her.

"Kate!" Alexis squeals, racing towards her on the sidewalk. Kate chuckles, bending forward to wrap her arms around Alexis's tiny frame as she rams into Beckett's knees. "I'm so glad you came!"

Kate's brow furrows. "Of course I was coming, silly. Your dad and I told you I'd be here to pick you up."

"I know, but sometimes…" Alexis's sentence trails and she lowers her arms from Kate's legs, glancing up to her with something like trepidation (this girl is far too young to be looking at anyone like this) invading her eyes.

The wind is strong today, ruffling Kate's hair and twining through Alexis's braid, and there are too many people on the crowded sidewalk, but Beckett sinks down to Alexis's height. Meeting her nervous gaze, Kate takes the little girl's fidgeting hands in her own.

"Alexis, can you tell me why you thought I might not come?" she coaxes, watching his daughter hesitate, lowering her eyes to the grey sidewalk at their feet.

"Las- _last_ year," Alexis enunciates, always working on her speech, her grammar. The pro of having a best-selling author for a dad. "I'd go to daycare sometimes. Mommy was visiting and - and she wanted to take turns with Daddy picking me up," Alexis explains, swinging their linked hands between them, the small petals of her lips puckering, falling into a frown. "But Mommy forgot 'bout me and Mrs. Ellis had to call Daddy to come get me and then he and Mommy had a big fight."

Kate tightens her grip on Alexis's tiny fingers, ignoring the anger burning in her chest, the urge to call Rick and demand the contact information for this little girl's mother. She so badly wants to make Meredith pay for instilling such doubt in a three year old child. The girl was more mature than most kids her age - she possessed a larger vocabulary, she got along well with others, she would excel at school, but she should not be so well-versed in such complicated matters of the heart.

Not so soon.

But no, not her place. While Kate isn't looking forward to seeing Meredith again in the future, if she intends to stay in Rick and Alexis's life, she should at least attempt to remain civil with the mother of her boyfriend's child.

"Alexis," Kate murmurs softly instead, earning the nervous flicker of his daughter's eyes. "I would never forget about you. I promised I would be here, right?" Alexis nods, shifting closer to Beckett, the tiniest spark of hope igniting in her gaze. "And I keep my promises."

"You promise to never forget me?" Alexis whispers, so shy all of the sudden, so unlike the vibrant little girl who fights imaginary dragons and believes in magic, who brightens every room she walks into without even trying. The same little girl who helped her concoct a breakfast for dinner style meal just last night while Rick was in a writing haze for the evening and giggled over the funny shapes of their pancakes the entire time.

Kate drops one of her hands to lift her pinky finger in the air between them, laughing at the delight that blooms across Alexis's face and fills her pink cheeks as she hastily twines her tiny pinky around Kate's.

"Pinky promise," Kate assures her, wiggling their fingers between them. "Now, let's get out of here. I have plans for us."

* * *

Rick exits the building with annoyance crowding his brain, creating tension up the line of his spine and aching in his shoulders. His meetings with Black Pawn are always boring. He normally spends them playing on his phone or counting down the minutes, but he fell into an argument with Paula at the roundtable of his team today and that always manages to put him in a bad mood.

Usually, he can understand where his publicist is coming from regarding certain aspects of his career. He often respects and welcomes her thoughts and opinions, but the constant pushing to change his image, to play up the _devil-may-care_ attitude and indulge the bachelor reputation he's put away finally hit a nerve. In retrospect, he can see that it really isn't a big deal and he knows Paula isn't the least bit put off by the small outburst he had, but no solution was found on the subject of his public persona. And he really doesn't want to have this argument again next week.

So intent on his brooding, Rick barely notices the woman standing in front of him on the sidewalk until he bumps into her, an apology already on his lips. But the woman's hands are framing his hips before he can say a word, steadying him and – oh, his bad mood has instantly been lifted.

"Kate," he grins, the pleasant surprise filling his chest and spreading even quicker at the sight of Alexis at his best friend's side. "And my baby bird!"

"We're here to kidnap you for dinner," Alexis informs him with a tiny smirk claiming her mouth, something he is almost certain she's picked up from Kate. It's confirmed when his daughter glances up to the woman at her side for confirmation.

Beckett is biting back a laugh, but nods her agreement. "That's right. We've been killing time since I picked up Alexis from summer school and decided that we were taking you out to dinner after we got our nails done."

"Yeah, Daddy, Kate took me to get a man...manc-"

"Manicure," Kate supplies softly, earning a quick nod from Alexis.

"Yes, a manicure! And then we got hot chocolate and now we're starving."

Castle chuckles and bends his knees to curl his arm around his daughter's waist, hoisting her into his chest to hold the swollen muscle of his heart in place. To keep it from flowing over with the joy of seeing his daughter so happy after spending an afternoon with Kate.

Part of him – a wounded but shrinking part of him – was afraid that the risk was too great, that Kate could hurt his daughter, disappear on her like she did on him, like Meredith has on Alexis. That part of him wanted to shield Alexis, protect her from the woman who crushed his heart in the palm of her hand like it was nothing.

But looking at the two of them now, after only months of knowing one another, he's so grateful he's allowed Kate Beckett back into his life without a single restriction.

"Alexis is in the mood for burgers and fries," Kate murmurs, looping her arm through his and guiding him farther away from the building, towards the East Village, a restaurant apparently already in mind.

"Or chicken tenders," Alexis quips, securing her arm around his neck and resting her cheek against his ear.

"Great criteria, Pumpkin," Castle praises as he squeezes her thigh, earning a gentle laugh from Kate.

"Kate says we're going to a diner you used to go to when you were kids," Alexis adds while they wait to cross the street. Rick glances away from the crosswalk sign, turning his head towards Kate with an arched brow, but Beckett is pointedly ignoring him. She tugs on his arm as the pedestrian countdown begins to glow.

"Remy's?" he asks her, the memories of his days spent in the cozy little diner with Kate Beckett flaring bright and distinct in his mind. It was one of their favorite after school hangouts when they were teenagers, a place for the two of them to chat over a basket of fries or study together while sipping on their milkshakes. "Still like strawberry shakes?"

They're strolling through a crowded sidewalk, but Kate still manages to graze a kiss to his jaw without breaking the flow of foot traffic.

"I kinda love that you remember things like that," she whispers, her lips curling into a smile against his chin just before she pulls away.

Castle shakes off her arm so he can find her hand, tangling their fingers and tucking their twined digits into his jacket pocket.

"Remember everything when it comes to you."

"Daddy?" Alexis chimes in, leaning in so she can look between both him and Kate, an inquisitive gleam in her eyes. Oh no- "Since you and Kate kiss and Kate stays at our house and tells you she _loves_ you-"

"Hey, I tell her I love her too, and so do you," he protests, but Alexis ignores him, still deep in her own thought process.

"Does it mean you and Kate are boyfriend-girlfriend yet?"

Kate's hand tightens within the confines of his, creating a taut ball in the pocket of his suit jacket. But at the brush of his thumb to her knuckles, the slender limbs of her fingers unfurl.

"I would say so," he answers his daughter. "What do you think, Kate?"

Beckett huffs a breathless laugh at his side, rakeing a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I would have to agree."

"Good," Alexis decides, wiggling a little until she can comfortably rest her head against Rick's shoulder. "If you ever marry Daddy, are you gonna get married for real, Kate?"

"What do you mean 'for real'?" Kate retorts, reaching across Castle's chest to pinch his daughter's leg, triggering a giggle that warms the skin of his throat. But Rick is too busy internalizing the thrill at her lack of hesitation over the mention of marrying him.

"You were going to get married before, 'member? Then Daddy crashed your wedding."

"I did _not_ ," he argues, even though, yeah. He kind of did.

Kate hums and squeezes his hand. "I remember. But your dad can't take all the blame. I wasn't ready to get married that day anyway, remember?"

They're only a few blocks from the diner now, the path he remembers from his childhood flashing with familiarity, and he's almost torn, longing to pay attention to the embracing comfort of the setting around him, and the gentle grin on Kate's lips while his daughter's open with another question.

"But why?"

Castle casts her a sideways look, an offer for help, but Kate gives him a barely discernible shake of her head in return, keeping her focus on Alexis and her expectant gaze.

"Well, the man I was marrying… he was nice, but I realized I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him," Kate explains carefully. He wishes he had a way to rescue her from this conversation, but as long as she continues to answer Alexis's inquiries, he refrains from speaking up, from distracting his daughter from the depth of a situation she won't fully understand for years to come.

"Gram said you had ord'nary, but you needed _magic_ ," Alexis whispers with a flutter of her fingers through the air, and why on earth was his mother talking to Alexis about Kate's failed wedding?

Kate exhales a quiet laugh, catching Alexis's wiggling fingers with her free hand.

"She wasn't wrong. Your dad's pretty magical, huh?"

"Yeah! Does this mean you wanna spend the rest of your life with Daddy, Kate?"

Castle sucks in a sharp breath, ready to contradict his own rule and save Kate from responding to that one.

"Pumpkin-"

"Maybe. He has to ask me to marry him one day and we'll see," Kate teases, keeping her words light, good enough for his daughter. But the look she gives him is steady, earnest, her eyes brimming with promise and oh, wow.

Rick turns his head, presses his lips into her hair.

"You say the word," he breathes out, low enough only for her to hear. "You just tell me when, Kate, and I'll ask-"

"And I'll say yes," she murmurs, extricating their hands from his pocket to bring his knuckles to her lips.

He wants to say more, so much more, but the diner is right in front of them. Kate holds the door, feeding into Alexis's excitement around visiting a place of his past, and he allows her words, her promises, to be enough. More than enough.

* * *

"What's got you so frustrated?" Kate asks from across the booth, nudging his foot beneath the table and tracing her index finger around the rim of her cup.

Alexis is at her side, sitting in what was once their booth at Remy's and sipping contently at her matching, albeit smaller, strawberry milkshake. His daughter is fully engrossed in her meal, enjoying every second of their diner date, but Castle can only manage to pick at his burger. The food is great, it always was here, but he hasn't had much of an appetite since he stormed out of Black Pawn's headquarters.

"Spill it, Castle," she coaxes, pinning him with a glare. He sighs, swishes the fry between his fingers around in the dollop of ketchup on the edge of his plate.

"Black Pawn, my publicist more specifically, is pushing me to change up my image, revert back to the playboy persona to up sales," he explains, popping the fry into his mouth and chewing slowly. "It's been months since I was in a magazine, since the paparazzi has had a reason to want a shot of me, and Paula is certain the lack of my appearance around the town with a woman on my arm is affecting the success of my novels at the moment."

Kate is watching him with her bottom lip between her teeth when he glances back up to her, her eyes fluttering down to her plate to avoid his.

"So, you need clubbing and arm candy?" she summarizes, her brow arching and her eyes flickering upwards to catch a glimpse of him from beneath her lashes. Man, it sounds so cheap and terrible, but well…

"Basically," he mutters, propping his elbow on the table and pressing his cheek to the fist of his knuckles. "Family man apparently isn't very appealing these days."

"I don't know, Castle. The Mr. Mom image is pretty hot on you, in my opinion," she muses. It triggers an unexpected piece of laughter that climbs up his throat, eases some of his irritation.

"Is that a subtle way of saying you don't want me out with other women?" he teases back, but he already knows, remembers without issue the way she sharpened with defense and prickled with fury when Meredith attempted to make a move on him last month.

Kate didn't own him, just as he didn't own her, but that failed to stop him from thinking of himself as claimed by her.

Oh yeah, Kate Beckett could claim him any day.

"Minus the subtle part, yeah," she admits with a shrug of her shoulder. "I may not be up for clubbing every night, but if you need to be seen with a woman on your arm…"

Rick raises his brow at her, surprise filtering through his system. While they haven't seriously discussed it, he knows how she feels about the media, the paparazzi, and he knows it isn't a part of his life she's ever embraced. He doesn't blame her.

"Kate, I don't want to subject you to that, especially when you're on your way to becoming a detective," he reasons and her lips curl, soft and lovely, tender, but she's shaking her head.

"If I intend to be in your life for years to come, I'm eventually going to end up in an article with you. Realistically, there's never going to be an ideal time to deal with that, so I'd rather have it out of the way sooner rather than later," she murmurs, shifting her arm when Alexis leans into her side, smoothing her hand down the length of his daughter's braid. "And if it helps get your publicist off your back in any way, then I'm all for it."

Oh, he loves this woman, his best friend, who's willing to sacrifice a valuable piece of her privacy for him, for them.

"I - okay, yeah," he nods, dumbly.

Kate chuckles in response, steals one of the remaining fries from his plate. "Do you think having us spotted together in public will be enough or-"

"Yes, more than enough," he assures her. "It's all they're getting. I just want you and this, no fake dating or late nights out with people I don't even know."

Kate hums her understanding, her approval. "Good, because Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"You're mine," she informs him, the grin claiming her lips gorgeous and certain. "And I have no intention of sharing you."


	16. Chapter 16

Alexis is dragging between them as they step off the elevator, her grip on Kate's hand going slack, Castle's too by the looks of it. Rick gives her tiny fingers a gentle squeeze and her blue eyes flutter with awareness, but her body still sways.

Kate pauses in the hallway to bend to her knees, extending her arms to the three year old.

They spent over an hour at Remy's, relishing the delicious food and reminiscing over the place, over their youth, until Alexis grew understandably stir crazy in the booth. It's a Friday, the last day of Alexis's week at summer school, so they took their time walking home (she _really_ needs to stop associating his loft with that title), letting Alexis stay out a little later than she's accustomed to.

And now his daughter is dwindling.

Castle smiles at her and releases Alexis's hand, allows her to wrap her arms around Kate's neck without hesitation and rest her head on her shoulder.

"Stop looking at me like that," she mumbles over Alexis's head.

"Can't help it," he smirks, leading them the last few steps down the hallway to his front door. "It's kinda becoming my favorite sight in the world."

She presses the flushed skin of her cheek to Alexis's hair. "Just unlock the door."

He obeys, but the ridiculous smile doesn't leave his lips, only seeming to grow once they're back inside the loft.

She ignores the tenderness in his gaze, the subtle shift that's taken place between them since mentions of marriage and letting the world know he belongs to her filled the air. She carefully transfers his daughter into his arms instead, smoothing a hand down Alexis's hair.

It's been a good day, a really good day with both him and his daughter, and she doesn't want it to end. She doesn't want to go back home to her empty apartment, doesn't want to tell him good night.

"Be right back," he whispers, starting up the stairs like he does every night, cradling his little girl to his chest.

Kate sighs, shrugging off her leather jacket and scraping a hand through her hair.

For the first time in her life, she's in a relationship that makes sense. Not on the outside maybe, but for her, it's effortless. Coming home to him after a long day at the precinct, having dinner and hanging out with his daughter afterwards, pouring two glasses of red wine for them to share on the couch once Alexis is safe and sound in her bed for the night – this new normal is one she's come to cherish.

Never would she have imagined becoming part of a family, let alone _Rick's_ family. She never pictured reintegrating herself back into his life, introducing herself into his daughter's. It can be overwhelming at times, has her questioning if she's truly ready for this kind of commitment, but from the day he showed up at her wedding, for the first time since her mother's death, she feels certain of something.

She wants him, everything that comes with having him, and it only becomes clearer with each day. How much she loves him.

"Kate?" She glances over her shoulder to see him trotting back down the stairs, hopping over the second to last step that always creaks. He continues towards her with his brow furrowed and his smile tentative. "You look… thoughtful. Everything okay?"

She waits until he reaches her to wind her arms around his neck.

"Better than," she murmurs, flicking her eyes to his mouth in prelude to the lift of her toes, the seal of her lips over his. Rick hums at the press of her kiss, snaking his arms around her waist and clutching at her bones when she dips her tongue past the seam of his lips, explores the hot cavern of his mouth.

"Kate," he breathes, the _we should stop_ on the tip of his tongue. It's commendable, how long they've waited, how patient he's been. But she's ready, beyond ready, for more.

"I was thinking about you," she murmurs, dragging her nose along the smooth skin of his cheek, fresh shaven and warm.

Castle lets out a breath against her lips, his fluttering lashes tickling against her brow. "I'm always thinking about you."

Her smile blooms to spill along the corner of his mouth and her hips sway forward, nudging him back.

"I was thinking a little deeper than that," she chuckles, successfully pushing him towards his study, her heart quickening the closer they draw to his bedroom and the closer his hands get to sliding beneath her shirt. "I was thinking about how it's always been you."

His back hits a bookshelf, stalling their progress, but they need the moment. His heartbeat is roaring beneath her hands, rattling his ribs. She lets him breathe, lets him have just a second, before she's lowering her splayed palms to his chest, teasing apart the buttons of his shirt. Kate dusts her lips along his jaw, touching her tongue to the harsh edge of bone. He shudders against her, fingers fisting in the hem of her shirt, finally sliding underneath to graze along the skin of her lower back.

She sucks in a breath and nuzzles his cheek.

"How it always should have been you."

Castle's head drops to her shoulder, his mouth opening at her neck, wet and hot over the thrum of her pulse. They've done all of this before - the perfect fit of his body aligning with hers, the heat of his mouth on her skin, her heart ready to burst from her chest just as he pulls away.

He lifts his head, but his hands remain at her spine, thumbs brushing along the strong bones of her vertebrae as he looks at her. His eyes are so blue, roaming her face with clashing shades of midnight and cerulean, the golden spill of stars lighting the dark pools of his pupils. Looking at her like he's so sure of her, so in love with her.

Her fingers snag in the edges of his shirt, nails colliding with buttons as she lifts her eyes to meet his, desperate for him to know, to believe her.

"Always been you, Rick."

The tips of his fingers press into her skin, firm and reassuring, while his forehead falls to rest against hers. She remains still, quiet, allowing him to make the next move if it's what he wants. And oh, how she hopes it's what he wants, that he wants her.

"Of course it's always been me for you," he murmurs, not presumptuous, far from arrogant, his voice just above a husk that sends a tremor of need down her spine. "It's always been us. I couldn't - never gave up on it."

"How?" she whispers, can't stop the syllable from sliding out.

He chuckles, the soft breath of it flittering across her lips. "Because it's you, Kate. Because when I first met you, I wanted to be your best friend while all the other girls still had cooties." She laughs, cupping his cheek in her palm to feel the rise of his smile against her palm, the crinkling corner of his eye along her fingers. "Because you were the first person I ever let read my writing and you made me believe I was good at it. Because you're my best friend in every sense of the word and I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."

She swallows hard, unable to help the flicker of memory, the first time he said those words to her. How they broke what was left of her heart.

"And even when I tried to stop loving you, I couldn't," he confesses, but his voice doesn't break, no remorse leaks into his words. He doesn't sound ashamed, doesn't speak of loving her like the weakness she always presumed it was. He talks of loving her as if it's a strength, something to be proud of. "Even when I saw you on your wedding day, I couldn't just leave it alone."

"Dad's fault," she croaks, clearing her throat and brushing her thumb to the corner of his mouth.

"Just a convenient excuse," he admits, scaling his hands a little higher up her back, bracing the cage of her ribs. "I would have shown up anyway, wrecked it because I'm selfish and I wanted you."

She huffs. "Nothing selfish about you, Rick."

"When it comes to you," he argues with a grin. "I've always been pretty selfish."

Kate cranes her neck to dust her lips along his. "I'm glad."

Castle drifts forward, slanting his mouth over hers and twining his arms around her body, fitting every piece of her against him like a jigsaw puzzle. Every contour of muscle, ridge of bone, and valley of flesh slotting into place. So easy, effortless, long overdue.

Kate does her best to hold back the moan, concentrating on unclasping the remaining discs of his shirt instead. She hums with victory and laces her arms around his neck once the fabric is finally open and the heat of his skin can sear through the thin material of her sweater. It's not enough, though; she wants to feel every part of him.

"Castle," she husks between kisses, knotting her fingers in his hair and dragging his forehead down to clash with hers again. "I just want you. Please-"

The noise that leaves his lips, the yearning in his eyes and the hunger spilling free from his throat, has the need simmering low in her abdomen reaching a boiling point. It spreads through her blood like molten lava, burning her from the inside out.

"You're sure that now is – that you want to..." His voice does crack then, so rich with want, ragged with desperation. "I just want to do this right, want it to be right. Us. Want us to last, Kate," he gets out, trailing his hands down her sides, strumming her ribs beneath the fabric of her sweater until he can reclaim his grip on her hips, stop them from rocking forward.

"We'll last, Castle," she murmurs, swears. "I'm sure of that."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This chapter is rated M.**

* * *

 _"Castle," she husks between kisses, knotting her fingers in his hair and dragging his forehead down to clash with hers again. "I just want you. Please-"_

 _The noise that leaves his lips, the yearning in his eyes and the hunger spilling free from his throat, has the need simmering low in her abdomen reaching a boiling point, spreading through her blood like molten lava, and burning her from the inside out._

 _"You're sure that now is – that you want to – I just want to do this right, want it to be right. Us. Want us to last, Kate," he gets out, trailing his hands down her sides, strumming her ribs beneath the fabric of her sweater until he can grip her hips, stop them from rocking forward._

 _"We'll last, Castle," she murmurs, swears. "I'm sure of that."_

* * *

His thumbs smooth along the bones of her hips, skimming below the band of her jeans to fit his fingertips to the hollow divots of skin. Her breath is caught in her lungs, impatient but waiting, because he deserves all the time in the world, but if he doesn't do something soon-

Rick's hands scale lower, curling at her thighs. He hoists her into his arms with ease and she locks her legs around his waist, breathing her approval against his mouth. He carries her through his bedroom doorway, nudging the door shut quietly behind them, remaining aware of the sleeping little girl upstairs.

Kate buries her face in his neck, pressing her lips to the warmth of flesh below his jaw, feeling her smile breaking through.

"What?" he chuckles, sliding his palms up her thighs. His hands squeeze the curve of her ass and she laughs softly into his throat, scraping her teeth along his skin, over the sensitive spot just below his ear.

"Just happy," she mumbles, nuzzling the hinge of his jaw.

"And eager," he adds, earning the nip of her teeth to his ear for that.

He growls and trails a hand up her bowed spine, into the waves of her hair. His fingers tangle in the locks, tug gently until she retreats from the cove of his neck. Pausing at the edge of the mattress, he brushes her hair back from her face, dark eyes roving over her in a way that's new, more intense than ever before, and leaves her utterly breathless.

"You're gorgeous, Kate," he whispers, tracing his thumb along her bottom lip.

She presses her lips to the pad of his thumb. "So are you."

She would find the flush of color to his cheeks, his throat, adorable if he wasn't burning between her thighs at the same time. Her heart hammers with anticipation as he lowers her to the bed, dipping his knee into the mattress and following her descent when she won't release him, refuses to let him go.

She helps him work the shirt from his shoulders, tugging it down his arms and grazing her fingertips along the muscles of his biceps, the broad wings of his shoulder blades. He's more toned than she expected, the lines of his body firm and defined, rippling beneath her touch. She maps the landscape of his back, traveling the path of his vertebrae while he sighs into her mouth, coasts his fingers along the hem of her sweater.

Kate arches from the bed so he can ease the fabric up her torso, past the hills of her breasts, and over her head. She's sure that since becoming a famous author, Castle has been with plenty of women, but he stares down at her bared upper body as if she's the first he's ever laid eyes upon.

His hands are tentative, tender when they trail over her, dancing lightly over the taut, quivering muscles of her abdomen and slipping beneath her to slither up her spine, unhook the clasp of her bra. The lingerie ends up in a pile with her sweater and his dress shirt beside the bed.

She's unable to restrain the gasp when Rick lowers his head, presses a kiss between her breasts.

It's only the beginning. This is just the start and he's already driving her body to insanity, pushing her towards a blissful edge.

Her hands rise from the sheets to find their way back into his hair, threading through the strands as he skims his lips up the line of her sternum, his tongue dipping into the hollow cavern of a collarbone before his teeth nip at the hard edge. He's trailing down seconds later, his lips caressing the slope of her breast, so close-

His tongue sweeps over her nipple, sending sparks of sensation bursting from the contact of his mouth. Kate gasps, tightening her fingers in his hair and hooking one of her legs at his thigh.

She bites her bottom lip to suppress the moan building in her throat, the mewling noises already crowding at her lips. But he's worshipping at her breasts, torturing her with his unrelenting tongue swirling over the taut peaks of her flesh, his scorching hands teasing wherever his mouth fails to touch.

Her heart feels as if it's about to explode from her chest.

"God, you're good at this," she breathes, feeling his huff of laughter against her skin as she slips one of her hands from his hair, reaches between them to snag her fingers in his belt.

She skillfully works the leather free of its buckle, managing to snag the button of his pants.

"Rick," she pants, triumphantly dragging his zipper down and palming the solid bulge still concealed by his boxers. "Let me touch you for a little while."

The ardent work of his mouth stalls for only a moment, the nip of his teeth to the underside of her breast causing her to whimper. She sighs in a compromise between disappointment and relief once he finally pulls away from her chest, devotes his attention to relieving her of her jeans.

Kate shimmies her hips, shoves his slacks down his thighs while her pants slide from her legs, landing somewhere across the room. His fingers hesitate when they hook in the lace edges of her underwear, beginning to withdraw. She doesn't understand until she catches the hint of uncertainty hiding in his features.

She curls her hand around one of his wrists.

"You have no idea," she husks, leading him back to the line of her underwear, allowing his fingers to trace over the sensitive skin of her lower abdominals before guiding his hand beneath the fabric.

She doesn't have to coax his hand much farther for it to find a home between her legs. The first touch of his fingers to the wet heat of her center draws a choked cry from her lips. The slick of them through her folds, teasing at her entrance, has her spine arching.

Her voice is a strident, throaty thing once she forces the second half of her sentence free. "How much I've wanted you, how often."

He bows his head to capture her mouth just as he slides two fingers inside her for the first time. "Probably just as often as I wanted you."

"Fuck," she gasps, her entire body threatening to tremble.

"And I wanted you all the time," he mumbles, circling his thumb at her clit, his rhythm too soft, languorous, torturing her.

"Take - take them off," she gets out, yanking at the waistband of his boxers, dropping her hand from its death grip around his forearm to tug at her own underwear. Castle reluctantly withdraws his hand to assist her. "No more waiting."

* * *

He can't deny that he's imagined what it would be like to end up in bed with Kate Beckett. More often lately than in their teen years, but it definitely crossed his mind even when he didn't want it to. When she was still nothing more than his childhood best friend all grown up that he had no business wanting so much.

But high school and college fantasies are nothing compared to this.

He's always known she was beautiful, a standout amongst all the women he's ever known, but looking down at her with her hair in a riot of golden brown against his pillows, her body writhing beneath him, and a mixture of her moans and laughter in his ear - he doesn't think he's ever truly appreciated just how breathtaking Kate truly is.

Part of him knew she would drive him crazy, but he didn't expect for it to be this _fun_.

"You're thinking too much," she whispers, caressing her palm to his cheek. Such a swift transition from ravenous to perceptive, tender.

"The waiting," he murmurs, dragging his nose along her jaw. "Just thinking about the waiting."

She turns her head to chase his mouth, lashes fluttering against his cheek. "You sure you're not just nervous to see me naked for the first time?"

He chokes out a laugh against her throat, triggering her own, and collapses onto his elbows to lie on top of her. Kate groans and digs her fingers into his back, presses a knee into his thigh, but the smile fails to dissipate.

"You're already naked," he husks, sucking in a breath at the reality of that. He can feel every part of her - bare and burning and glorious against his own skin - underneath him. "I don't think 'nervous' is the right word."

"No?" she hums, nudging her hips upwards. She knows exactly what she's doing, grazing the heat between her legs along the solid pulse concealed by his boxers. "Eager, maybe?"

He grunts, buries his face in her neck. "Always eager for you, Beckett. Too eager."

"When I said we would last," she picks up, combing her fingers through his hair. "I meant our relationship, Castle. Neither one of us is lasting long in this."

He can feel the amusement bubbling in her chest beneath his, can feel her smile in the air.

"No," he concedes, planting a kiss to her pulse before lifting his head once more. Her eyes are sparkling with laughter, but build with need as they meet his, ache with wanting when he trails a hand down her side. "Not the first time."

Her eyebrows raise. "First time."

"We have all night," he points out, the corner of his mouth quirking. "And years to make up for."

"No," she corrects, soft but with a shake of her head. The curl of her fingers at his nape squeeze. "There's nothing to make up for. Not with this. There was never a better time for this than now."

His heart swells, tearing at the seams for her. "I love you."

Her smile blooms, wide and gorgeous, and then she's craning her neck to take from his mouth. "I love you back," she whispers, tightening the leg at his thigh a mere second before she uses it to flip them over. "I want to show you how."

He's having a hard time getting the breath back to his lungs, oxygen restricted from his chest, his brain. His brow furrows, unable to keep up. "How?"

Kate nods, bowing over his body, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his boxers at the same time.

"How much I love you."

* * *

The trip of her lips down his chest, skating along his trembling abdomen, has him writhing beneath her.

"You're not even going to give me a fighting chance, are you?"

The last of his clothing slides down his thighs, boxers finally landing on the floor beside his bed with the rest of their clothes.

"No fun in that," she chuckles, crawling up his body once more, taking her time. She pauses to press her lips to his skin, opening her mouth over the sensitive flesh below his hip, his ribs, dragging her teeth over his nipple.

" _Kate_."

Her smile spreads along his chest, fueling the fire between them that's becoming unmanageable.

He grazes his hand to the swell of his breast, knuckles skimming the underside, eliciting a pleasant humming in her chest. It escalates to a gasp, a groan, as his thumb circles her nipple, the crescent of his nail scraping.

She squeezes his hips with her thighs, nips at his ear in retaliation, but the rhythm of her body atop him, the slow, deliberate grind of her hips into his, falters. He takes the opportunity to regain the advantage, rolling them over and pressing her back to the mattress with the pin of his hips.

Her thigh instantly cinches around his, drags him closer, and has him cursing into her shoulder as the slick heat between her legs sears his skin.

"Shit, I want - I wanted to take this slow, work you up a little more," he gasps, unable to help the undulation of his hips. Her entire body shudders beneath him, automatically rising to chase after the thrust of his. Gone is the tease of her laughter, the push and pull of intimate touches that served only as precursor to what they both want.

"Next time," she gets out, her knuckles glimpsing along his stomach.

Their hands collide, bumping as his return to the cove of heat blooming between her legs. Kate turns her head, burying a muffled cry in the swell of his bicep. Her fingers dance over his knuckles, caressing and clutching the back of his hand as it glides through her folds, fingertips scalded by the spill of her arousal.

Her eyes flutter, lashes a gorgeous feather of black along her cheeks. Their hips bump, hers arching up while his sink forward, fingers brush once more, hers coiling around his wrist as he guides himself home.

* * *

Her heart stutters, its beats palpitating through her bones, traveling like electric currents to buzz through her blood. Kate lets go of his wrist to find his hand, fingers lacing with ease and falling to rest beside her head atop the mattress.

He slides deeper, so gentle and slow, and she pants for breath.

" _Castle_ ," she lets out, his name nothing more than an exhale.

His fingers tighten in hers and then he begins to _move_ and it takes all she has to just hold on.

Her heels are digging into the mattress, desperate to meet every painstaking stroke and withdraw of him from her, her free hand roaming his back, the wings of his shoulder blades, her nails stabbing into the skin. They mark the back of his neck when he lowers his mouth to worship at her throat, the work of his tongue, his teeth, ardent and lasting.

Every part of her is burning, buzzing, a live wire sparking at every edge. At every drive of his body into hers, every hot stroke of his tongue to the skin of her neck, her clavicle, her breasts.

She whimpers when his teeth scrape along the swell of her chest, too close to the tender peaks of her nipples for her to bear. He plucks at the peak of her breast and she writhes, bites down so hard on her bottom lip that she tastes the prick of blood.

"Stop, stop, stop, you're going to make me scream," she chokes out, yanking mercilessly on his hair, her voice breathless and blurring her words.

His moan sends harsh trembles, intense ripples of sensation all the way down to her core. But he relents, traveling the path back to her jaw, her mouth.

"You're so - breathtaking," he's whispering, the words slipping free like a strangled prayer that he lays along her lips. "More beautiful than I ever could have imagined, every piece of you - beautiful's not even a good enough word-"

"Rick," she pants, her heart beating harder, the muscles of her thighs quivering as they wrap around his waist. One of his hands reaches back, fingers slipping to cup the inside of her knee, slicking with sweat and dragging her leg higher up his back. It has him sinking further inside her, so gorgeously far that he's all she can feel, the stars crowding behind her closed eyes all she can see.

"And I'm so in love with you." His hand presses hers deeper into the mattress, the tangle of their fingers the only anchor she has left. Her spine arcs, aching to meet him, to take him over the edge with her. "Always in love with you."

The way he loves her, the way it spills inside her, is what undoes her.

Kate muffles the stream of noises, of feeling, evoked by her orgasm in the cove of his neck, the cradle of his shoulder. Her hand slides out from beneath his to aid in banding her arms around his shoulders. His entire body is shaking, spent and losing the fight in holding himself up above her, so she guides him down.

They both shudder at the collision of sensitive flesh, the brush of his stomach along hers nearly enough to revive her need for him on the spot. But she can barely breathe, both of their chests rising and falling, crashing into one another in their thirst for air.

"Why do you always have to talk so much all the time?" she rasps, absently combing her fingers through the damp strands of his hair.

The curve of his grin blooms against her jaw. "Because it can make you do that. I'm never going to shut up now."

She grunts but accepts the kiss he stains along her mouth, turns into the whisper of his lips at her temple.

"We should have done that years ago," she mumbles, following the shift of his body onto its side. He's watching her with that awestruck look in his eyes, the pool of cerulean and ripples of gold winking back at her. When she was younger, she used to wonder what it would be like to have him staring at her with those ocean eyes, to be the one they sparkled like stars for. But now, sharing space and breath and intimacy like the pillow beneath their heads, not only does she cease to wonder, but she's starting to realize that nothing's changed.

He's spent nearly a decade and the past six months looking at her like this.

"Maybe." He shrugs, tracing the shell of her ear with his thumb, somehow the most sweet and erotic thing she's ever felt on her skin. Kate presses in closer, brushing a kiss to his sternum. "But this..." His lips graze her forehead, sweeping along her hairline, and she raises her kiss to his chin. "This was perfect."


	18. Chapter 18

He wakes to an empty bed.

Rick sits up, heart seizing. The sheets are cold, soaked in morning light, but bare of her. He searches the room for a sign, for some kind of reassurance, but his mind is already jumping to the worst case scenarios.

She regretted it. Regretted crossing that line, spending an entire night tangled up with him in ways he can never forget, ways they can't come back from. She regretted something she can never take back, regretted him.

He swallows hard and pushes the covers from his legs. It's not fair to judge her so harshly so soon. There are plenty of explanations as to why she would leave him to wake alone.

Maybe there was an emergency. Maybe she had to go to work. Maybe - maybe she wanted to avoid breaking his heart again?

Castle scrubs a hand down his face and stumbles to his feet, heart still beating unsteady, and reaches for his robe. His hand scrapes over bare furniture.

Huh. He thought he left it on the armchair.

It's then that his gaze catches on the bedside table, the alarm clock.

"Shit," he curses, heart pounding for an entirely different reason then.

It's past seven, nearly eight o'clock, and Alexis has probably been awake and all by herself for the last hour.

Rick rushes through his bedroom, stepping into his boxers on the way out, bumping his hipbone into his desk during his sprint through the office. He careens into the living room with his eyes set on the stairs-

"Rick?"

The sound of her voice has his attention jerking to the kitchen, where... where Kate is standing, wrapped in his robe and cooking something on his stove with his daughter half asleep in her arms.

His entire body exalts with relief.

"Hey," he breathes, already feeling the dopey smile splitting across his lips.

But Kate only states back at him, something shuttering in her eyes. She caught onto his initial first thought right away, didn't she? His lack of faith in her.

Dammit.

"Daddy?" Alexis yawns, her cheek smudged against Kate's shoulder. "Why are you in your underwear?"

He glances down, feeling his chest flush, self-conscious all of the sudden. Alexis has seen him in his boxers plenty of times, but he doesn't usually make strutting around the loft in his underwear a habit. Not to mention, the sting of hurt in Kate's gaze when she looked at him strikes a little more sharply against his naked skin.

"Sorry, Pumpkin. I overslept, panicked a little," he tries to explain, glancing back to Kate.

But she's pointedly not looking at him now, tending to whatever she's cooking in the pan atop the stove.

"That's okay, so did I," Alexis mumbles. "I came down and Kate was here."

"Yeah, she was," he sighs, watching her jaw tighten.

"She said she was making pancakes and told me I could have them however I wanted, so I chose blueberries," Alexis grins, her eyes still half-lidded, his little girl so content to drift in Kate Beckett's arms.

"Wow, we'll have to have Kate stay over for breakfast more often, huh?" he muses, venturing forward.

"Oh yes," Alexis nods, perking up a little. "She should just stay forever."

A cough rattles Beckett's frame and Alexis lifts her head, patting Kate's back.

"You 'kay, Kate?"

"Yeah, of course," Beckett answers with a tight-lipped smile for his daughter. "Just got something caught in my throat."

Alexis wiggles in Kate's arms. "Here, I get down and you get some water."

His best friend's smile softens into something genuine.

"Thank you, sweet girl," he hears her murmur, watching her press a kiss to the top of Alexis's head before bending to place his daughter back on her feet.

"Hey, Daddy," Alexis chirps, shuffling away from Kate with brightening eyes. "Do you know it's Kate's day off?"

Castle's lips quirk. "I do."

Alexis slows to a stop in front of him, hope tugging on the corners of her mouth. "If Kate says yes, can we do something toge'der today?"

Rick hesitates, not so sure Kate will want much to do with him today. Not that he can explain that to his three year old.

"Why don't you head upstairs and get dressed and I'll talk with Kate about it, Pumpkin?" he suggests, brushing her bangs back from her forehead.

"Okay," Alexis shrugs, glancing back towards Kate as she starts for the stairs. "I hope you say yes!"

His best friend musters another smile for his daughter, tender and not letting onto any of the tension he can feel radiating from across the room.

"We'll see."

It's enough for Alexis, sending her contently skipping up to her room. He waits until he hears her footsteps overhead to approach the kitchen. His chest rises and falls with a quick breath as he pads towards Kate, heart causing his ribs to tremble.

He reaches her side, earning a glance from the corner of her eye and a tired sigh.

"Here," she mumbles, moving to shrug out of his robe. He stalls the sleeves at her shoulders.

"Kate."

But she's already shaking her head, shifting away from him.

"It's okay," she murmurs, even though he can tell by the look in her eyes alone that it is so obviously not. "I get it, Rick. I'm not the easiest person to trust-"

"No, it wasn't fair of me to think that," he objects quickly. "I just - when I woke up and you weren't there... I just got scared."

Her gaze reluctantly rises to meet his.

"It's not right to blame you for that, though. You've proven more than enough times that you are trustworthy, Kate."

"Just not with your heart," she sighs, staring down at the knobs on the stove again. Won't look at him.

So he touches her chin, forces it. "Trust or not, you've had my heart since the moment I found you again."

She trains her eyes on his jaw, her own still set in a hard line that won't budge.

"But you are trustworthy, with my everything. I walked in on you holding my daughter while making pancakes for us," he presses, as if his entire point hinges on this one morning, on that one beautiful image of her standing in his kitchen with his daughter in her arms. "That... what more could my heart want?"

She bites her bottom lip, but tears her eyes from his chin. "Someone who hasn't broken it before?"

"Kate," he grumbles, stroking his thumb along the harsh bone of her jaw. "That was five years ago."

"But it-"

"No," he argues, touching his thumb to the downturned corner of her mouth. "These last few months... you put my heart back together, made it better than it ever was. I love you, I love you so much and as long as I can have you-"

She uses his wrist to balance as she arches on her toes, stains a kiss to his mouth that bleeds grief and apology and gratitude all at once.

"I love you too," she whispers, lips brushing his as she speaks. "So much, it scares me, Rick."

He holds her tighter, as if he can squeeze the fears out of them both. But Kate is stroking her thumbs to the insides of his wrists, soothing and calm.

"But it's worth it," she adds, lashes tickling his cheek as she leans in closer. "Because I'm definitely not going back, not giving you up now. Love you too much."

He scoffs out of reflex. "Never too much."

He's been in love with this woman since before he knew what love even was. 'Too much' will never apply for her.

"And I swear I won't break your heart again. Not like that. Not on purpose."

He sighs, decides not to begin an argument of what 'not on purpose' could entail. He's tired of imagining all the ways he could lose her again, whether it be of her own accord or that of the cruel fate that took her parents, takes people in her line of work all the time.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asks instead.

The roll of her eyes and quirk of her lips against his cheek lets him know it's all okay.

"Nothing to forgive," she murmurs, nipping at the corner of his mouth, sparking that delicious heat in his abdomen. "But you should probably put some clothes on."

Castle huffs, trying to follow that smirking mouth as she pulls away. "Taking yours and what's left of mine off sounds like a better idea."

"Three year old upstairs," she reminds him with an arch of her brow because yeah, he's supposed to be the responsible parent here. "Besides, I was thinking that after breakfast, we could go out, explore our old stomping grounds like we talked about?"

She bites down on her bottom lip, like she's shy about voicing the idea, but his heart is bursting with excitement at the sound of it.

"I'd love that," he grins, brushing a stray curl back behind her ear. "Ooh, but where do you want to go first? There's that spot downtown by the river, the bookstore near our park, or - oh, we should get coffee at that one place in Chelsea. Then, of course, there's the library, our old hangouts in Central Park-"

"Castle," she interrupts with the press of her fingertips to his lips. But she's smiling like his excitement is contagious, her own lips upturned with delight, as if his memory has pleased her.

He meant it when he said he remembers everything when it comes to her.

"Put some pants on," she murmurs, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, tugging, contradicting. Definitely not helping. "Eat some pancakes with me and your daughter and then we'll talk."

Castle hums, swaying towards her even as she places a staying hand to his bare chest. "Your plan's good too."

"I know." She drops her hand and takes a resolute step away from him, back towards his kitchen. "Hurry up, I don't want us to have to wait on you."

He huffs, but laughter is bubbling along the seam of his lips. "Yes, ma'am."

No, they're all done with waiting.

* * *

Kate goes back to her apartment after breakfast with Rick and Alexis, insisting she just needs to change, ensuring him that it won't take long. He may not voice it, may not even be aware of it, but he's still reluctant to let her go when she leaves, part of him still afraid she won't come back again.

She's admittedly not the most patient person, but for him, she can be. She _will_ be. She'll be patient and diligent in her proof to him, her oath that she's not going anywhere. Not running from him.

The sundress slips over her head, fluttering down her body to flirt along her knees. It's the first time she's actually dressed for the season, the summer's warmth, her skin still pale from its time hiding beneath her uniform. The rich purple would look better against tanned flesh, but Castle won't care. Her lips twitch. No, Castle will just be happy to see her wearing a dress.

She runs a hand through her hair, allowing the waves to remain loose and free to graze along her shoulders. He's meeting her here with Alexis in twenty minutes, but she's ready to go now, more eager for this outing than she expected.

Her phone starts to buzz at the foot of her bed where she left it and her stomach begins to sink. It's her day off, but it wouldn't be the first time she was asked to come in for a shift anyway. She's never said no, has never even hesitated to accept the chance for more time on the force, but today... she may have to decline for the first time.

But it isn't the station or any of her superiors' numbers flashing across her screen. The number is unknown.

"Beckett," she answers, listening intently to an exhale of breath on the other line.

"Kate Beckett?" The response of her name is posed as a question, but it's weary, tired, as if the man on the other end of the call is dreading her confirmation.

With a furrowed brow, she give it. "Yeah."

"This is John Raglan," the voice reveals, grave and stealing her breath.

Her heart stops, constricts painfully around her lungs.

"I was the lead investigator on your mother's homicide five years ago," he adds, but she doesn't need the clarification.

"I remember you, Detective Raglan," she murmurs, the words leaving her mouth mechanically. Of course she remembers him, could never forget him or any other detail of her mother's case.

"Listen, I - we need to talk, about your mother, the case. There's something you don't know."

Her heart begins to pound, like a rabid beast dark and hungry in her chest. Ready to consume her.

"There's a coffee shop at 4th and Main. Meet me there, just you. None of your cop friends."

The line disconnects before she can reply, but she already knows what her answer is.

She changes out of the sundress.

* * *

"Is Kate okay, Daddy?" Alexis inquires, trailing at his heels in concern.

"She's fine, Pumpkin," he promises as they shuffle together through his bedroom.

He hopes he's telling the truth.

The text from her came through minutes before he and Alexis were prepared to walk out the door and head for her apartment.

 _I'm not cancelling, but something came up. Can you meet me at a coffee shop on 4th and Main? Just you. We can pick Alexis up after._

It has his nerves rising, but he's trying to focus instead on the fact that she's keeping him in the loop regardless of whatever's going on.

 _Of course. Be there soon._

"And like she said in her message, we're not cancelling any plans. Kate and I just have to run a quick errand," Castle explains while he shrugs on a flannel button down over his t-shirt.

Alexis pouts up at him from the closet doorway. "Why can't I come?"

"Because it's nothing exciting, sweetie," he assures her, trying to play it off as nothing because he really has no idea what's waiting for him at that coffee shop. But his guts are twisting. "You'd be bored. Besides, don't you want to save your energy for later when we _will_ be doing fun stuff?"

Alexis purses her lips, a Kate habit. "Yeah, I guess so."

Castle swoops forward to lift his daughter from the ground, relishing her squeal and the tight loop of her arms around his neck.

"And you'll get to spend the rest of the morning with your Gram," he reminds her, propping Alexis on his hip and carrying her out into the living room.

His mother is already there, waiting on the sofa with her usual lipstick-stained slash of a smile and too much knowledge in her eyes.

"What kind of errand is it that you and Katherine have to run again?" Martha questions, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He shoots his mother a look and braces a palm at Alexis's back before dropping her onto the couch cushions beside her grandmother. She giggles, smiling up at him with those rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes.

"A boring one," Alexis answers for him, tilting her head backwards to grin at her grandmother.

"What she said," Castle concurs, wiggling his fingers down Alexis's side for good measure, the smile spreading unbidden across his lips at her burst of laughter. "And we should be back soon."

"Promise?" Alexis asks for good measure.

 _I hate promises_ , Kate used to tell him when they were kids. He didn't understand it then, figured she was just mad at her mom again for missing another family dinner. But as they grew up, grew older, and time showed just how feeble promises can truly be, he found the meaning in her words and fought against them at the same time.

He made sure his promises always held up, never crumbled. Not for those he loved.

Castle bends to peck a quick kiss between her eyes, dropping another to the top of his mother's head.

"Promise."

* * *

"Tell me what I don't know about my mom's murder."

She demands it, her clasped hands atop the coffee table trying not to tremble.

"You know how every year around the holidays, they run that Christmas Carol on local TV?"

Kate clenches her fist. She sure as hell doesn't have the patience for _this_. Castle will be showing up any minute and she wants him here, but wants this wrapped up before he arrives. She'll keep him involved, won't leave him in the dark, but she won't put him in any form of danger.

And sitting here now, with John Raglan looking at her like a sinner on his knees and a snake in the grass at the same time, she definitely senses the danger of this meeting.

"When I was a kid, I remember Jacob Marley scared the hell out of me. Forced to drag that - that chain around in the next world.

"I wear the chain I forged in life," she echoes, the words haunted on her tongue.

"I made it link by link." He holds her gaze. "I hid a lot of sins behind my badge, and now I gotta carry them. But your mother's case, that one weighs a ton."

"Why? Because you wrote it off as random gang violence when you knew it wasn't?"

"I did what I was told."

She scoffs, the fire of rage burning through her veins.

"I've kept quiet because I've been afraid."

"Yeah? And where's this sudden burst of courage coming from, Raglan? What caused you to suddenly grow a conscious?" She scowls at him. "Or are you just tired of carrying around the weight of my mom's case?"

"Just hold on," he tries to placate her with a hand risen in supplication. She wants to slap it down to the table, slam his bones to the surface. "You need some context here. This thing started about ten years ago, back before I ever knew who Johanna Beckett was. Ten years ago I... I made a bad mistake, and that started the dominoes falling. And one of them was your mom."

Raglan lowers his eyes to the ceramic coffee mug cradled in his palms.

"I'm pretty sure the next one will be you."

Her heart jolts with awareness mere seconds before a series of bullets pierce the glass.


	19. Chapter 19

The hot spray of coffee is the first thing she registers, the steaming liquid spewing across her throat before it's spilling across her shoulder. But that's... that can't all be coffee. The gush of heat down her shoulder fails to stop.

Kate doesn't have the time to investigate the growing burn consuming her arm, leaching into her chest. She stumbles out of the booth to the floor, yelling for everyone to get down on the ground, away from the windows. Raglan already has, his body convulsing on the floor, hands clutching at his throat, blood streaming through his fingers.

She moves to go to him, desperate to try and staunch the wound, save his life so he can save a piece of hers. But his movements are slowing, body spasming, and she - she doesn't think she could get to him even if there was still a chance of keeping him alive. Her own body is collapsing sideways, the sudden pain staggering. She doesn't even think she can keep herself conscious.

* * *

He hears gunshots while he's walking down the street, less than a block from the address she texted him, and somehow, he just knows.

Rick takes off running down the sidewalk, fighting against the current of human traffic, the multitude of bodies retreating in the opposite direction. He should do the same, but there's a chance Kate is where those gunshots are and he's not going anywhere without her.

The sick knot of dread in his stomach tightens once he reaches the coffee shop. The place is practically made of windows and the main one, the stretch of glass across the front of the small building, has been decorated in bullet holes splintering like cracked ice about to cave in. Screams from the inside, patrons rushing out and pedestrians running away, only confirm what he already knows.

He's in the right place; Kate is in there.

His lungs crack like the window, sternum splintering to jagged shreds of bone in his chest, but his legs carry him forward, through the crowd, to the shop's entrance.

"Hey, sir, don't go in there!"

Someone, a male voice with a strong grip on his shoulder, is trying to yank him back from the door. Castle jerks from the other man's grasp, from the voice he doesn't have the time or desire to put a face to.

"Let me go," Rick growls, successfully curling his fingers around the door handle. "My girlfriend's inside."

The hand on his arm releases and Rick pushes, practically stumbles through the entry.

The jingle of a bell breaches the sounds of panic spilling from the shop, a handful of people use his entrance as a moment of opportunity to slip past, escape, but he barely notices any of it. He's scanning the room, looking for Kate.

His heart snaps in two when he finds her.

" _Kate_." He trips forward, dropping to his knees beside the woman slumped against a booth. Her eyes are closed, her face slack, and her hand is halfheartedly clutching her bloodstained shoulder. She's wearing jeans, a white button up blouse that's blooming like a flower of crimson beneath her palm. "Kate," he calls, sweeping the waves of hair back from her face. "Kate, sweetheart-" His voice cracks. "Please-"

Her eyes flutter, the charcoal of her lashes rising from the paled skin of her cheeks. They were so bright this morning, so flushed with color and affection.

"Castle," she breathes, her brow furrowing and her hand lifting to reach for him. Before she abruptly drops back to her side with a hiss. "Shit, my shoulder."

"Hospital," he croaks. "We need to get you to a hospital." It's all he can think. The only rational thought amidst the chaos consuming his brain, the world around them. That and- "What happened? How-"

Her eyes flare wide, flying sideways to see past him.

"Raglan," she gasps, gritting her teeth. "Check - check his pulse."

Castle follows her gaze. He didn't even notice the man lying on his back a few feet away, blood like a river streamed from the center of his throat to pool along the linoleum beneath his head. The man is dead, he doesn't need to check his pulse to be sure of it.

"Raglan," he echoes, the name, the face, coming back to him now. Back to a cold January night at her front door, back to Kate breaking down as the realization that her mother was gone struck like a knife to the gut, back to the beginning of the end.

"Called me," Kate rasps, staring up at him with eyes that are full of so much pain, an agony that exceeds the bullet wound in her shoulder. Shit, she was _shot_. They need to- "S'why I called you. Wasn't - wasn't shutting you out."

"Shh, I know," he whispers, hovering his hand at her shoulder. It looks like she stopped the bleeding with the pressure of her own palm, but the dried blood seems to have sealed her hand to the spot.

"But now you - need to go. Go away - away from me, Castle."

His eyes snap back to her, incredulous and questioning. "I'm not going anywhere. There's a panic outside, the police - an ambulance - will be here soon and-"

" _No_ , Alexis. You need-"

"I didn't bring her," he says calmly. "She's at home, waiting to see you."

"Gotta stay _away_ from me," she moans, the chorus of sirens following in perfect tune. "Killed Raglan. Trying to kill me. They'll come after you, you can't-"

"I'm not staying away from you," he hisses, migrating his hand back to her face. His thumb finds rest at the corner of her eye, moisture seeping into the whorls of his fingertip. "Never staying away from you, Kate. Never again, do you hear me? I love you. My daughter loves you. You're family-"

She chokes on a sob and he presses in closer, body bowing over hers.

"It's going to be okay, love. I promise, I promise," he chants, stroking his thumb back and forth along the paper thin flesh.

A low whimper trembles at the back of her throat.

"I'll stop," she breathes, eyes struggling to stay open. She's fading, he can feel it, and the thought of her leaving him like this, succumbing to the effects of a bullet that may fortunately not be deadly but still detrimental, is too much for him.

"Stop?" he murmurs, catching the shouts of what has to be a police team outside.

"This." Her gaze fights to find his, to hold on. "Her case. No - no more."

He shakes his head. It's not the time for it, for this discussion, to find out exactly how this entire ordeal came to fruition.

"Kate-"

"Can't put you at risk," she mumbles, eyes falling shut and cheek tilting into his palm. "Love too much."

A violent jingle of the bell above the door has his attention jerking away from her, to the officers flooding in.

"NYPD! Everyone stay where you are."

"Medic," Castle gets out, the single word strained but catching the attention of the man leading the pack of police into the coffee shop. " _Please_. She's - she needs help."

The officer quickly motions to someone over his shoulder, eliciting a flicker of hope in Rick's chest. He turns back to Kate, her eyes moving fleetingly behind her lids.

"Kate," he calls softly, tracing the delicate skin below, the tiny beauty mark hiding beneath her lashes. "Just stay with me, okay?"

"Hmm?" The slits of her eyes flicker open, just enough for her to spare a glance at him. "Always wanna be with you, Rick."

He's going to lose it, the sting of tears clogging in his throat, behind his eyes.

"Be okay. Promise," she adds on a slur.

He presses his lips to her hair, breathing past the stench of blood and the sickening pound of his heart to smell the scent of her beneath. Cherries and vanilla and pancake mix. "Promise."

* * *

There are voices. Both familiar, both male, and both whispering.

 _Hissing_ , her mind corrects. Whisper fighting, as Alexis would call it.

 _Mommy and Daddy used to whisper fight all the time._

"She needs protection," the first one snaps. "They're obviously coming after her. Raglan was a pawn to get her there and they only needed one bullet to kill him. They wanted her dead too."

"She's not disappearing to some safe house," the second voice growls and oh, yes, that's definitely Castle. His voice is so distinct, even when the words are scraping their way out of his throat. "I can take her away, take her somewhere safe. But I'm taking her, not you."

"You have no idea what's at stake, what's going on. Her mother's case-"

"Is going to kill her. You think I don't know that?" Castle finishes for the other man. "But sending her off to some cabin in the woods isn't going to help her. She's about to make detective-"

"You think _I_ don't know that?" Will, that's who it is. Will Sorenson, her ex-fiancé, is arguing with her boyfriend. What kind of nightmare is she living in? "Everyone knows. Everyone, including the people who tried to kill her today. She's rising in the ranks, she's presenting a risk to whatever coverup that may be going on-"

"Wait, a coverup? You... you've looked into it?" Rick asks, the snarl in his tone dissipating. "She's right, isn't she? It's bigger than some random murder."

"I don't know, I don't know any details. I just know that it's more," Will concedes on a sigh. "So much more than she can take on without getting herself killed."

"That's not happening."

"I'd love to see you try and stop her from doing what she wants," Will scoffs, but Rick doesn't hesitate.

"I know what she wants. Justice for Johanna, it matters. A lot. But Kate... she has too much to live for to risk it." A moment of silence, tension. "I won't let her risk it."

Too much to live for. Mm, he's right. She lives for his blue eyes, his crooked smile, and the way he says her name. She lives for his daughter's laugh and the way Alexis's small arms feel wrapped around her neck. She lives for the family she's found, for the love she reclaimed.

She can almost hear her mom, can remember the way she watched her from the corner of her eye while they stood side by side, washing dishes one night when Kate was eighteen, about to start college.

 _"You know, falling in love with your best friend-"_

 _"Mom," Kate groaned, because it wasn't the first time Johanna talked about it. She's pretty sure her mom was onto her from the start, aware of that budding bloom of something more than friendship the second it began to grow._

 _"I just see the way you look at him," her mother shrugged, a smirk curling across her lip. "I think it's cute."_

 _Kate rolled her eyes. "It's not like that."_

 _"Oh?" Johanna hummed, nudging Kate with her hip. "What's it like then?"_

 _"Like..." Having butterflies on a constant loop of fluttering in her stomach when they were together, seeing the stars light up the night sky when she looked at him, feeling her heart threaten to pound its way out of her chest when he was close enough. "Being friends. We're just friends."_

 _"Mm."_

 _She hated that noise, the 'I know the actual truth' noise._

 _"Why do you care anyway?" Kate huffed, drying a dish with a little too much concentration. "Shouldn't you be troubled by the fact that my best friend is an twenty year old boy?"_

 _"A good boy who's practically part of our family. So no," her mother chuckled. "And I always care when it comes to matters of your heart."_

 _Kate paused. "My heart?"_

 _Johanna stopped too then, letting a fork sink back to the bottom of the soapy water. She met Kate's eyes with nothing but soft understanding in hers._

 _It always coaxed Kate into saying more than she planned. But her mother's input usually made it worth it._

 _Kate sighed down at the countertop, the dish in her hands._

 _"I just don't want to risk what we have," she mumbled, biting her bottom lip. "He's too important."_

 _Johanna dried her hands on a dish towel. "I think you're just as important to him."_

 _"I guess," Kate shrugged, leaning into her mom's side when Johanna's arm came around her shoulders._

 _"You know, I've always believed that risking our hearts is one of the reasons why we're alive," she murmured, the corner of her mouth quirking. "I'm not telling you to rush into anything, Katie. But after watching the two of you for all this time... I just love seeing the way he makes you smile, how he's been making you smile for the last seven years."_

 _Her mom pressed a kiss to her temple and squeezed her shoulder._

 _"Just saying, maybe it's worth the risk," she mused, returning to the dishes while Kate stared into the sink._

 _"Maybe."_

"Mom's right," she sighs, sensing the room go still, the echo of footsteps quickly following. She feels his fingers at her hair, soft and gentle along her scalp.

"Kate?"

She hums, tries to, but she can't open her eyes, can't stay long enough to hear what comes next.

Risking her heart may be why she's alive. But she won't risk him, not for justice, not even for her mother.

Her mom wouldn't want her to.

* * *

There's a heavy weight across her thigh the next time she swims into consciousness. A pressure that is different, far less painful than the throbbing that's overtaken her shoulder and trails like venom into her chest. It's a contrast, but it still has her leg sparking with the need for reprieve.

"Hey, sweet pea, I think Kate's waking up."

Her eyebrows fall into a crease. He's using her name for Alexis, the one he always makes fun of her for.

 _Why would you call her 'sweet pea'? She's a pumpkin._

 _If we're a pea pod, Rick, then she's the sweetest one in it. A little sweet pea._

He would sigh, unable to argue with that.

 _But I hate peas._

Somehow, it hurts her entire body just to indulge the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Sweet pea."

"Yep, she's definitely awake," the voice, _his_ voice, chuckles softly.

Castle.

She forces her eyes to open, fighting past the wave of dizziness, the black spots lining her vision, as she goes. Her gaze lands on the source of her discomfort first.

Alexis is tucked into the side of the hospital bed, half of her little body draped at Kate's thigh, red hair spilling onto Kate's lap. His daughter's bright blue eyes widen as they meet hers.

"Kate," she whispers, moving slowly, oh so carefully, to sit up on her knees. Castle must have warned her. Sweet man, even sweeter girl.

"Hey honey," she sighs, fingers twitching. But she can't reach for her, that much she knows from the pulse of electricity that travels up her arm from the simple movement of her hand alone. Must be the side where she was shot.

Shit, she was shot and the thought alone drags all of the pain to the surface. It must show on her face, the throbbing agony building like a drumbeat in her shoulder - beating, pulsing, radiating down her arm, through her chest, seizing the muscles and searing through bone.

"Hey, Pumpkin, how about we move you back to that comfy couch for a little while?" Rick suggests, his broad palm coming into Kate's line of vision, fingers brushing through Alexis's hair. He's shaking.

But Alexis is watching her helplessly, one of her small hands falling to the thin sheet at Kate's hip and clutching. "You got hurt. Daddy was crying and Daddy never cries, only if it's real bad, and I - I got scared." His little girl's eyes begin to swell with moisture, shining in the dimmed glow of the fluorescents. "M'scared."

Oh god, she's barely conscious, but his kid is breaking her heart and making her cry right along with her.

"Alexis, look at me," Kate calls softly, waiting for Alexis's glittering blue eyes to find hers. "I'm okay. I promise I'm okay and I - I keep those, remember? My promises?"

Alexis sniffles, but nods her head. "Yeah, you always keep them."

"Yeah," Kate whispers, attempting a smile but she can hardly manage it past the grit of her teeth. Getting shot really _hurts._ "I'm so sorry I scared you, but I'm going to be fine. It only hurts a little."

She doesn't have to see to know Castle is shooting her a baleful look. But Alexis is biting her bottom lip before she raises her fingertips to replace her teeth. His daughter presses a kiss to two of her fingers before gingerly leaning forward to press them against Kate's cheek.

Her heart clenches, physically being crushed beneath the tender brush of fingertips, and she does her best to lean into Alexis's touch.

"You're okay," Alexis whispers, echoes.

Castle sucks in a soft breath and reaches for his daughter, delicately hoisting her from the hospital bed. He easily deposits her to onto a small couch just a few feet away with a kind of effortlessness that Kate already envies.

With his daughter settled, curled up against the arm of the couch with his jacket bundled around her body, he finally looks at her, really looks at her, meeting her eyes and stabbing at her heart, digging into her wound. Alexis isn't the only one she scared.

"Rick," she rasps.

He returns to her side and leans over the edge of her bed, as gentle as Alexis when he brushes his hand along the line of her hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, lifting her head towards the graze of his fingertips and shutting her eyes in shame. "I'm so sorry, Castle."

Her eyes flutter open at the heat of his breath at her cheek, the familiar pressure of his forehead falling to rest against hers.

"No reason for you to be apologizing," he mumbles into her skin.

"No reason?" she repeats, her voice falling apart, strangled and hoarse. "It's all my - I never should have agreed to meet with Raglan."

His nose bumps against hers. "There's no way you could have known, Kate. There's nothing you-"

"Should've called for backup. Montgomery or-"

"You called me," he points out, one of his hands managing to migrate its way into her hair. Oily and limp and probably dried with blood.

"I put you in the line of fire," she growls, keeping her voice low, but feeling the sound reverberate through her bones to reach the source of agony in her shoulder.

"Kate," he growls back.

"Won't do it again," she vows, her lashes grazing his cheeks as she glances up. She can barely see him like this, the proximity guarding his gaze from her. "Won't risk you - this - again."

"We don't have to talk about this right now," he attempts to placate her. She scowls at him for it.

"Not all of it," she concedes, swallowing hard. She needs water, but she won't ask for it, not yet. She won't offer him the opportunity of a distraction. "But that part - believe that part. Please just believe that I love you too much for that."

His lips dust along the bone of her cheek, the whisper of his kiss trailing along what's left of Alexis's.

"I believe you."


	20. Chapter 20

**Epilogue**

* * *

He has to trek out into the backyard to find her.

It's a gorgeous day. The sky is cloudless and blue, the sun warm without being overbearing, a subtle breeze in the air. He isn't surprised to see Kate laid out on a lounge chair, dressed in a pair of shorts and a loose tank top, soaking it all in.

"Didn't your doctor advise that you try to stay out of the sun while you're recovering?"

The sunglasses slip just slightly down the bridge of her nose. One of her eyebrows arches even as she gives him a withering look from behind her shades.

"Is Alexis down for her nap?"

"Yep," he grins. His daughter isn't minding their impromptu beach getaway one bit. He honestly isn't sure how he's going to convince her to go home when the time comes, not when he's witnessed his baby bird so at ease within the bubble of his Hamptons home, a bubble that keeps him and his family safe.

They've only been here for a few weeks, finally settling in comfortably for Kate's recovery, for her safety. Will Sorenson is their contact on the case - as awkward as that is for all involved - and while all leads in Raglan's murder quickly went cold and no active investigation can be pursued, Will is keeping an eye out for them. Along with Kate's captain, Roy Montgomery.

"I'll make sure it's safe before she comes back," Montgomery promised him in the hallway outside of Kate's hospital room. Her superior was so solemn, like he was swearing by an oath, and something about the meant reassurance caused Rick's stomach to flip. "Just help her heal and don't let her worry about making detective. The position will still be waiting for her when she gets back."

He shook Montgomery's hand, thanked him, and relayed the news to Kate. But he still shifts with unease every time her captain crosses his mind.

He shakes it off, refuses to let the paranoia seep any deeper. He only has room to focus on two things anyway: his daughter and Kate. Driving out to his house in the Hamptons after Kate's release from the hospital, spending their days lounging in his luxurious home by the pool or on the shores of the beach has been helping immensely.

"Josh told me that for the sake of a clean scarring process, I should keep my _wound_ out of the sun. Which I am." Her gaze flicks down to her bare shoulder, a thin hand towel from his bathroom draped over it. "Happy?"

"I was," he nods. "Until I realized you're calling your skeezy surgeon by his first name."

Kate rolls her eyes but her lips are quirking, allowing him a glimpse at the whites of her teeth.

"Baby, you know Doctor Davidson's got nothing on you."

She's appeasing him, teasing him, but his chest swells with pride nonetheless.

"As long as he never has _you_ on him-"

Her good arm shoots out to smack his thigh. Hard enough for him to dance away from the sting of her hand and the nip of her fingers.

"Not funny," she scowls, hooking her fingers in the leg of his shorts and tugging instead. "Come here."

"Are you going to hit me again?" he asks, shuffling into the reel of her arm regardless. "Because I apologize. I'm just easily threatened by your hot doctor."

"Why would you be threatened?" she smirks. "And shouldn't I be the one feeling threatened if _you_ think he's hot?"

It's his turn to shoot her a look, glowering at her as his shins bump against the lawn chair.

"Hotter than me," he relents, bending a knee to rest beside her hip. Her fingers release their grip on his shorts to slide around to the back of his knee, tucking there. "More your type."

"How would you know my type?" she challenges, squeezing at his flank. "It's always been you."

He blinks, a little stunned, a lot flattered. He wasn't expecting that, especially not so casually and while she isn't even on morphine anymore.

"I just... assumed, with Will, that trainer guy you liked-"

"Royce was my training officer and nothing happened," she reminds him calmly, patiently. Because they've had even more time to talk lately, to catch up in the hours she's spends stranded somewhere - his bed, the couch, the floor when she's being extra stubborn and manages to push too hard too fast. If he wasn't well-versed on those five years of her life that he missed before, he definitely is now. "I was just lost. Got lost for a while."

"Just about five years," he shrugs, but she already knows he shares her grief in those five years of wandering through life without each other. Lost is a solid summary of that time for him too.

"Mm," she smirks, but her hand remains a comforting weight at the back of his leg, drawing him in. "When I said come here, I meant sit down."

He hesitates, always so wary of her injury. It drives her crazy and she notices the reluctance immediately, its cause.

"Rick."

He sighs and carefully takes a seat next to her on the lounge chair large enough to fit two, trying his best not to jostle her.

"Speaking of inadequate ex lovers-"

"Castle," she huffs, pinching his thigh. Hard.

He hisses, squirming away from the reprimand of her fingertips, and nods to the cellphone balanced on the arm of the chair. "Heard anything from Will?"

"No, but I don't really expect to any time soon," she admits, sparing the phone a fleeting glance. Her throat ripples with a swallow, her jaw hardening with acceptance.

He knows Johanna's case remains heavy on her shoulders, a weight that will never truly dissipate, will refuse to lessen until it's finally put to rest. But he wants to believe that it's at least become a little easier for her to balance now that he's carrying some of it too.

"They'll call," he promises her, words of encouragement that do no good, but never fail to earn him that quiet flicker of gratitude in her gaze. "And we'll get the bastards."

She exhales, shallow and slow, lets his words soak in like she needs them to breathe a little easier.

"I know." Her attention falls away from the phone, returning to him. The line of her mouth, gentles, curves, as stares at him, seeming to abandon thoughts of failing investigations in favor of him. "Do you remember the cottage my parents used to rent out here?"

"Of course. It was at that cottage that I saw you in a swimsuit for the first time. Unforgettable."

She shoots him a glare as he settles a little more comfortably alongside her, draping her legs across his lap and covering one of her knees with his palm. She squirms when he strokes his thumb to her patella, a patch of unshaved hair prickling beneath his fingertip. She hates not being able to shave properly and he never manages to thoroughly go over her knees when she lets him try and do it for her.

"I remember the first time you guys invited me to come for a weekend," he adds on a murmur, the humor in his voice softening.

"You came with us every time after that," she nods, her chin tilting towards the ocean in the distance, the muffled crash of the waves.

"Your dad would always take us fishing," he recalls, lips twitching.

"Until you started bringing your notebook along. Then he and _I_ would fish while you sat in the boat writing," she teases, but his smile only grows.

"Something about the beach just gets my creativity flowing," he shrugs, following her gaze towards the water. "One of the reasons I ended up getting a place out here."

"I'm glad you did," she murmurs, easily coaxing his eyes back to her. The glasses are up now, propped atop her head and leaving her face clear and open to him. "I missed it here."

"Did you ever come back, after they were gone?"

"I thought about it maybe once a few summers back," she muses. "But no, I never really wanted to."

"And you're sure this isn't too much?" he inquires, waiting for her eyes to meet his again. "Being here?"

"No, I'm here with you." The corner of her mouth curls, affection spreading soft and light to her cheeks. "Maybe not under the best circumstances..."

"I definitely would have preferred your first time here to include the ability to skinny dip," he sighs, expecting another roll of her eyes, a smack of her hand. But she merely bites her lip.

"There's still time."

A flare of heat spreads through his abdomen, longing searing his insides. It's not fair that they were only allowed one night together before she was shot and the physical limitations her recovery stalled any hope for more for a while.

Not that Kate doesn't try to test the boundaries of that too, pushing his willpower to its limits.

Castle squeezes her knee. "You really need to get better."

"My point is that it doesn't hurt so much with you here," she murmurs,. "Kinda applies to all areas of my life at this point."

It makes his head spin and his heart ache, how much in love with her he is. How she loves him back.

"You sure I'm the sap in this relationship?"

She's careful of her shoulder as she leans forward, her hand rising to curl her fingers at his chin, guiding his lips to hers. He's been on the receiving end of her kisses for months now, but the spark and spread of fire sweet and warm through his bloodstream has yet to dim. It only grows.

"Drugs lowering my inhibitions," she mumbles, smirking into their kiss.

"That excuse would work if you were actually taking your painkillers," he counters, grin matching hers.

Her lashes flutter against his cheeks with the roll of her eyes he was waiting for, a sensation he's grown all too accustomed to by now.

"Love you," he mumbles, feeling every inch of her soften.

Her nose dusts along his cheek. "I love you too."

The breeze lifts her hair to skim along his skin in an additional flutter of kisses and he opens his eyes to the view of her tanned skin, the sun-streaked strands of her hair and the freckles scattering across her cheeks and shoulders, the scenery around them that only seems to illuminate her.

"This is where I want to marry you."

She goes quiet, but doesn't look away, her eyes soft and golden and so very close. Close enough for him to see everything. "Here?"

"Here. Right here. A wedding on the beach, but not quite," he muses, casting his gaze to the expanse of his backyard. The rich green grass, the excess of space, the opportunity for subtle decoration and enough guests to fill a row of chairs while keeping the event intimate. "That day at the church-"

"Feels like another life sometimes," she fills in on a whisper, the pad of her thumb absentmindedly tracing back and forth over his fourth finger. A habit she's developed. "Only been a few months."

"It wasn't you," he finishes, watching her eyes ripple like the waves of the ocean with curiosity. "Big church wedding with no one but Lanie to be there for you."

Kate bites down on her bottom lip. "What were you picturing?"

"An outdoor ceremony, a small gathering, a different dress." Her lip slips from between her teeth, a trickle of amusement tearing it free. He keeps going. "A sunset sky, just enough light to bring out the streaks of gold you've always had in your hair. You and me, my kid as a flower girl, empty chairs for your parents, our friends-"

"Rick," she breathes, the sun causing her eyes to glisten. "This better not be your version of a proposal."

He scoffs. "No." Not that he isn't already planning one. Not now, not while she's hurting and miserable and wrapped up in the treacherous blend of Johanna's murder and her own recovery, her own survival. Not while he still wakes drenched in sweat from a nightmare that feels too real, dreams where she doesn't make it out of that coffee shop alive, not until she's waking up too and reminding him just how alive she still is. "No, not yet, love."

She cranes forward to brush a kiss to his jaw, gentle and pleased. "Good."

The hand twined in his draws closer to her heart and he follows its lead. "Too much?"

"No," she murmurs immediately, earnestly, pressing his knuckles to her chest. "I want that. Marrying you, here, the way you described. I - I know we're not there yet, that I... with everything going on, I can't be," she sighs, but he shakes his head, drops it to rest against hers.

"We'll get there." He squeezes her hand, hopes he can transfer some of his affirmation into her through the press of palms and fingertips. "We've already come so far and it hasn't even been a year, Kate. You've got me, my kid, and we aren't going anywhere."

"Neither am I," she says with conviction, standing strong in her vow to put him and Alexis first. He hasn't doubted her, but he thinks she'll always doubt herself, that she'll always fear the draw of the rabbit hole.

But things are different now; she's no longer a rookie lost in grief and reckless urgency. She has a partner now, one who loves her too much to let her go, and a little girl who shines like the sun the moment she sees Kate walk into a room. She told him in the hospital that she has a life worth living and a heart that's too full to risk, that her mother would never want her to risk it, that Johanna would be too overcome with joy over the two of them finally getting together to even fathom letting Kate put it at stake.

And she was always one to listen to her mother, even when she hated to admit Johanna was right.

"Just..." She stares back at him with so much hope, with so much yearning and need. It's the way she's always looked at him since they were kids - in a way that makes him want to give her the world. "Promise me we'll have that one day, a future."

"Oh, Kate, I don't have to promise," he answers without thinking, doesn't have to. He strokes his thumb back and forth along her sternum, feeling the rise and fall of bone, the wild call of her heart thundering to meet his touch. "I don't have to hope or wonder, not about that. It's just inevitable, like everything with us."

Yeah, that's a good word for them, a satisfactory adjective to sum up their story.

Rick lets his forehead remain at rest against hers, sighing out a breath that lets his heart float to the surface, but she says it before he can.

"We've always been inevitable."


End file.
